


America the Mysterious (United States of America #1.5)

by 37054ljH



Series: The United States of America [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 50 states - Freeform, Abuse of Authority, America is a mother, American Civil War, Angst, Arranged Marriages, Blood and Gore, Brother-Sister Relationships, Burning of Washington, Character Death, Child Abandonment, Child Loss, Child Neglect, Colonialism, Colonization, Dark Past, Decapitation, Dismemberment, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Earthquakes, Father-Child Relationships, Gen, Ghosts, Historical, Historical Figures, Implied Cannibalism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, Monsters, Mother-child relationships, Multi, Music, One-Shots, Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Requests from Wattpad, Scars, Short Stories, Some Romance, War, What-If, World War I, World War II, light comedy, or 51 if you count the last chapter, originally from wattpad, supernatural powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-09-27 19:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 90
Words: 109,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20413327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/37054ljH/pseuds/37054ljH
Summary: Follow America and her states on their worldly dramas and journeys!**Chapters are in alphabetical order. Also, please be warned that not all of the chapters in here are going to be historically accurate, just so you know.**Originally published on Wattpad on July 22, 2016.





	1. Annexation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by November-Rain2399 on Wattpad*

Something from within her kicked, and America almost gasped from the sheer strength of it. However, she smiled lovingly, but shortly after she frowned, for it seems that thanks to this new treaty with Russia, a child sired by him would be born soon.

"Are you sure it's wise to go along with this?" America asked the Secretary of State, William Seward. "I know it's a little late for that, but are you sure you thought this through?"

Seward looked to her. "I'm sure Miss. This could mark the end of the Russian expansion to trade along our coast, and it could even help our rise to power."

America thought about that. "I can't deny the results, but I still fear that the Russians could finally declare war on Great Britain after so long because of this."

Seward frowned. "Nor can I Miss. But I suppose the best thing from now on will be to hope for the best."

America nodded. "I see."

~~~

Alaska had been sold in 1867, but for a long while after the state had been ignored, so the actual child herself wasn't conceived even though she should've been. The state had mostly been under no rule at all until a government had been created in 1884, and a gold deposit was found in 1896.

Afterwards, in 1912, Anastasia was born.

So, unlike most of her people, America paid much attention to her daughter's state and watched as it grew. And even now that Ana was older, America knew her daughter would make a wonderful country someday.

~~~

But years before Ana's birth, there was Hawaii to take into consideration.

Unlike with Alaska, Hawaii was annexed in 1898, though America mostly contributed that to the fact that the leaders in Washington were concerned that the islands would become a part of a European country's empire. But there was one thing that America had disagreed with alongside President Grover Cleveland, and that was annexation, but there was no taking it back now that she was with child and when the Spanish-American war broke out.

"The child grows strong," said the deposed Hawaiian queen, Liliuokalani, when America felt a kick.

America looked to her. "Yes, they have. My queen, doesn't this--"

"Yes," answered Liliuokalani somberly. "That child is proof that nothing will go back the way it was. But...I suppose this was doomed to happen sooner or later."

"But you're angry."

"Of course I am. I was taken away from my right to rule by your government, and a new government is replacing my own. But that doesn't mean that's going to stop me from living my life."

"I see. I wish you luck then Queen Liliuokalani."

"And I you, Princess Migisi of the South."

~~~

Two human years later, America found herself visiting the queen again, except now she had a new bundle in her arms. The little one in that bundle was sleeping, unaware of the world around her, and when Liliuokalani spotted the child, she held out her arms.

America halted, reluctant, but there was no sign of hostile intentions in the other woman, so she placed the baby in her arms. Liliuokalani looked over the child, taking in her almond-shaped eyes, her pale skin, and her silky black hair.

"This is the new Hawaii," she mused. "How strange that I've never met the old one."

America said nothing to that.

Finally the queen looked to her. "Take good care of this child Princess Migisi of the South, and make sure she grows up to be a wonderful country to her people."

America took back her daughter as she nodded to the other woman. "I will."

Liliuokalani smiled. "Thank you."

From that point on, America knew that, in the end, despite her motives, she wouldn't be any different from those conquering nations, like England, but she sure would never boast about what she did like he did with her.


	2. As A Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by November-Rain2399 on Wattpad*

Israel may not be a man who was needed at the world meetings much, and even the higher powered nations knew how important he was! But there was a reason why Israel hated coming to the meetings, and it was not because of the noise or the way nothing ever gets done.

It was because he didn't want to see the nations putting down his good friend, America.

When America revealed her deceit, Israel was both shocked and heartbroken. Of course, he knew he never bothered standing up for America when he (she) needed it, but it wasn't like he had any other choice! If that happened, then his cruel neighbors, Iran and Afghanistan, would terrorize him twenty-four-seven, and that was the last thing his country needed.

So, every time the real America would come to world meetings, Israel would stare at her with a pained expression, but whenever her eyes fell on him, she would give an understanding smile, one that only served to hurt him more.

How could she still smile at him like that even while knowing what he's done?

One day, Israel was eating lunch alone when the sound of high-heels began heading his way. Startled, he glanced up to see America sitting down next to him, a calm expression on her face. They didn't speak for a moment, mostly because Israel didn't know what to say.

Thankfully, America did that for him. "Is everything alright Israel?"

Israel didn't answer for a moment. "Y-Yes."

America stared at him, obviously not believing him. She turned to look ahead, her eyes clouding over a little. "Look Israel, I'm sorry that I hid my real identity from you, but you would be much safer if you didn't know."

"That's not it!" Israel shouted, surprising America. Realizing this, he slumped. "That's not it."

America didn't speak.

"Don't you see? I failed as your friend America. I failed in more ways that I can count. I never bothered defending you when you needed it, like a true friend would."

"I didn't expect you to." Hearing this, Israel stared at America like she grew a second head.

"Israel, I know there are many conflicts going on in your country, and, knowing how Iran and Afghanistan are, they would add more problems for you if you did try to defend me. Trust me Israel, I am anything but blind or deaf when those two are concerned. Besides, I know how much you care, and that was more than enough to help me get through the day.

"Now, can you do me a favor and stop blaming yourself for this? There is nothing to blame yourself for after all."

Israel didn't know if he could keep that promise. Many certain people would make certain of that if they knew.

But still, he wants to try.


	3. Baby Mine

At first, when England heard of the existence of the personified states, he didn't believe it, not until he accidentally when back in time as a unseen force to witness the birth of his oldest daughter, Evelyn.

He also couldn't believe how his little America was actually a woman, and she had been so ever since she herself was born. She would also asexually become pregnant, and despite never having sex, it was pretty obvious of who the fathers were. She never showed the developing child for some reason, but that made things easier for her.

Including the birth.

Back then, after finding out America was a woman and she had 51 children, Spain had asked her this question. "America, why did you hide them from us?"

America looked at him, irritated. "Have you truly forgotten?"

Spain looked confused.

"Do you truly not remember how you've treated women back in those days? If any of you found out I was a woman, you would've treated me way differently than you have back then, and my children? You would've tried to use them for your own gain!"

"What?! Mon ami, we would never--" France paused when he saw America's doubtful look.

"Really France? I know you are just as immature as the rest of the nations here, and the fact that you're denying it really takes the cake. If there's one thing I learned when I grew up under England's care, it was that territory was important, and I automatically knew that you would use your own children for your own needs and god knows what else. You wouldn't see them as your children at all, but rather as property, and basically rule their lives like they wouldn't mean anything!

"I've seen this happen so many times France, especially when England turned my own brother against me for no reason other than to get me back! In the process, the only thing the both of them accomplished is the scarring of a few of my sons, myself included, and one of my sons is suffering from PTSD because of those two! Also, that showed me I can't even trust my own_ brothers_!"

America didn't see it, but Canada was hurt by her words, knowing they were right.

France was also stricken. Of course, they had met Washington D.C. and Maine, the former who always had to wear long-sleeved shirts and pants to hide his burn scars, while Maine was like a ticking time bomb. He was also terrifying in his unstable form, and France knew the boy was more than capable of hurting someone severely, and he was more than happy to kill someone if that person happened to be a threat to his family's safety.

England and Canada had harmed children, and one of those children happened to be England's son, while both of the children involved were Canada's nephews. It truly went against Canada's morals to never harm a child, but he had gladly set a child aflame and traumatized another because of his blind rage towards his sister.

Meanwhile, England, miraculously, said nothing the entire ordeal. He was realizing right there and then that he didn't even know the child he raised, and never did. She had deceived them all the entire time, all to protect herself and her country, her children included. However, what mostly struck England was the fact that America denied his rights as a father.

He was the father of many children, and Virginia was one of them, his eldest child.

Which lead him here.

He stood in a dark corner of America's room, watching with awe and even a little horror as her womb started to glow with a blue light. Then, the light exploded, and a silhouette of a girl appeared in that light before it disappeared into a baby, which soon eased itself in America's arms, sleeping peacefully with her mother.

It was Virginia. Evelyn as a baby.

Her blonde bangs acting like a waterfall on her forehead, her blonde eyelashes long and soft on her cheeks, her pale skin luminescent, and her small lips light pink.

She was beautiful.

England watched when America woke in shock at the sight of little Virginia, waking the child. Her eyes slowly opened to reveal England's green eyes. Then, after realizing who she was to her, America's entire stance relaxed and a loving gaze appeared in her eyes.

She, too, had immediately fallen in love with her daughter.

Later, England was in his daughter's nursery room, standing over a sleeping baby Evelyn in her crib. Then, as if sensing his presence, she opened her eyes, looking straight up at him in curiosity, wondering who he was.

Carefully, so as to not frighten her, England reached a finger down into the crib, allowing the baby to grasp it. She stared down at the finger in confusion, but took it in her tiny hands anyway. Then, England took the child into his arms, holding her carefully.

Not once did baby Evelyn start crying. She just stared up at her father with confusion, but she was relaxed at the same time, like she sensed he wasn't going to hurt her. England walked to the rocking chair and sat down, gently rocking his little Evelyn. Evelyn yawned and slowly fell back to sleep in her father's strong arms. Meanwhile, a little music box began to play, sounding like "Sleepers, Wake".

England could not hold back tears of happiness, for this baby, this child, this little angel, is his, and America had kept her a secret from him. Kept all the children she had with him a secret. His beautiful children.

However, if he thought about it hard enough, the older nation couldn't hold it against his former colony. After all, he wasn't stupid to the fact that if the previous him knew of his children, he would try to use them for his own gain and more than likely make their lives a living hell. He was lucky they didn't hate him, only didn't trust him. Though, he wished he could watch his children grow up like their mother did.

He wanted to watch Evelyn grow up into the beautiful Celtic maiden she is today, watch Felix, Everett, Eric, Allen, and his other sons grow into the professional but fun and loving men they are today, watch Victoria and Melanie grow into the opposites of each other, but unique in their own ways, and so much more, but sadly, he would never be a part of that, because it's too late.

However, it isn't too late for him to become the father he was supposed to be for his children.

Feeling himself fading, England, before placing Evelyn back in her crib, held her close and kissed her forehead. As soon as he placed her in the crib, he was back in his actual time.

"Baby mine," he whispered to himself, smiling lovingly. "don't you cry, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine."


	4. Bloody Queens

A young America menacingly walked towards the office of Queen Elizabeth I, her face clouded and eyes burning with anger. The very sight of that emotion caused many people, including Elizabeth's own ministers, to avoid her. However, just as she was about to reach the doors, one of the ministers, William Cecil, 1st Baron Burghley, stepped in her way.

"Where are you going child?" he asked her, but then he recoiled a little when America's angry eyes locked with his.

"Move," she ordered. "Now."

Slowly, the man obeyed, and America didn't bother knocking as she walked into Elizabeth's office. The woman didn't appear shocked at her arrival, in fact if America didn't know any better, she would believe she had been waiting for her.

"Hello Emily," she greeted wearily, like she had been beaten so much that she didn't care about life any longer.

America marched up to her. "What have you done Elizabeth?"

"What have I done?"

"You know what I am talking about. If I didn't know any better, I would believe you have become exactly like Bloody Mary."

Elizabeth turned on her. "Do not compare me to her child. You and I know very well that I am nothing like her."

"Oh?" America mocked. "Then why have you allowed the brutal executions of those Catholic rebels? And please tell me of a better reason besides it being over your prisoner."

Elizabeth said nothing for a moment. "And how did you obtain this information?"

"Do you think I am a naive child Elizabeth?" America demanded, staring at the queen like she was looking at a stranger who had taken over a body that she knew. "Have you forgotten that I am a country myself?"

"I have not," Elizabeth answered calmly.

"I thought not. And I also hope you are right not naive yourself to the fact that you have acted exactly as your predecessor would have done to those who stood against her."

"I'm aware."

"Then you understand where I am going with this."

"I do." Elizabeth now sounded beyond exhausted when she said this.

But America was not in the mood for empathy at this time. However, in a much calmer voice, she said, "Do not misunderstand me Elizabeth. I understand that you had been raised with this faith, but you seem to have forgotten that people all over this world are raised with different religions. I will never understand your or the Protestants' anger, nor the Catholics, but at the same time I do not wish to. 

"You all seem to forget one small detail, and that's the fact that in the end, no matter what country nor religion we hail from, we're human. And for your role as a queen, you failed to realize that." America scoffed at this point. "Your father and brother were fools Elizabeth, and even you know it. I pity those two, but not enough it seems, for I'd rather much see them rot in Hell for what they've done."

America didn't stay long enough to see Elizabeth's shocked look. Even though she knew she would come to regret this, she didn't care at this point.

Her mother was right; the white men were fools, but then again so were the natives.

~~~

"Into thy hands I commend my spirit." America knew she would remember those words during the execution of Mary, Queen of Scots. The woman kept muttering those words even when the executioner finally swung the axe at her exposed neck. 

It doesn't go all the way through, and the executioner then had to keep cutting away until the head finally fell off. As he picked it up, the Queen of Scots' hair turned out to be a wig, and her head then falls off the stage like a ball. America noticed among the horrified gasps of the people that her hair was white.

White from so much stress and depression.

America pitied the woman, but not enough that she wished this fate hadn't befallen her. Mary was too naive to be a queen, not to mention she was easily pushed around. It was no wonder why she had the worst luck in the world (that America knows of).

But then America's thoughts turned to another woman, and she found herself shaking her head in disappointment. Elizabeth didn't attend the execution, in fact she refused to believe that she had sentenced Mary to death to begin with.

Foolish woman. Foolish to have ignored the fact that Mary had practically been held a prisoner here for nearly nineteen years and the fact that she had signed the death warrant to begin with.

Still, whether she liked it or not, Elizabeth had Mary's blood on her hands, and the blood of the Catholics she massacred before signing the former's death warrant.

In the end, from the beginning of her reign to her death, she was a bloody queen, there was no doubt about that.


	5. Bonfire Dancers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

The Philippines danced with a smile on her face, all while keeping her eyes on a good friend of hers.

America was dancing a traditional dance of one of the ancient people of her lands, and she danced it with perfection. Of course, Philippines wasn't aware of the traditions of the natives, but it was a beautiful thing to watch when America did it.

All around them, a bonfire burned, people cheered, and the dancers didn't have a care in the world. Both America and Philippines were wearing long white dresses, pearl bracelets, and tropical flowers in their hair. Philippines could feel the eyes of the people and nations on her, but most of those eyes were on America.

She danced with her eyes closed, gracefully avoiding the fire and nearby dancers. When Philippines got a good look at America's face, she realized the other woman's eyelashes were long and gently rested her skin. Instead of feeling jealousy, Philippines smiled with awe, feeling beautiful herself.

America had that kind of power for anyone she smiled at.

Her hair also shone bright orange, her skin seemed to glow, and she overall looked otherworldly. How expected of a daughter of Native America, and yet so wondrous.

Eventually, the two female countries past each other, their eyes meeting the other. Philippines saw the message in America's eyes.

_Dance with me._

As the music intensified, Philippines allowed it to lead her, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Beside her, America followed in her example, and the two women would nearly collide on more than one occasion. Together the women distracted the other dancers so much that they were literally frozen in place, and kept the attention of the audience on them.

Eventually, the women graduated to dancing with each other, performing moves that Philippines was naturally not really good at, but America was teaching her without any words. Her smile grew as America lead her around the bonfire and frozen dancers, America's small feet graceful and balanced.

They needed to do this more often.

As the dance came to a close, America and Philippines gave one last dance around each other, their eyes meeting again. Philippines loved how the sky blue of America's eyes shined with happiness and indifference to the world around her. She hoped her green eyes were the same.

Once they finished, the audience and even the dancers were released from their trance, and unleashed a loud applause.

Before they went their separate ways, Philippines wondered when they could do this again. America was after all a busy woman who was spending her free time with her children. Beautiful things, just like their mother.

She couldn't wait when the next time came.


	6. Children of the Land

Scotland didn't know what he was thinking when he decided to visit the lands of England's charge, but it was too late to turn back now. He was here, wandering these unfamiliar lands and watching as his foolish brother's fleet took whatever resources they could from this country.

He almost pitied the country England took in.

"Who are you?" a male voice asked, and Scotland jumped in surprise before turning around to face a young boy, and he was then stunned by his appearance.

The boy almost looked exactly like England, except his hair was amber blonde and his eyes were a sky blue. He was also looking upon the older nation with curiosity, which reminded said man of when England was still a child.

"Who are ye lad?" he asked. "Where's yer mother?"

"Down there." The boy pointed to the ship docks, and Scotland spotted a very tall man with the same amber hair as the boy. He was watching the ships leave with a sort of distaste that Scotland recognized even from where he stood. It seems that he too had a dislike for the British Empire.

But he saw no sign of the boy's mother.

"Who are ye lad?" Scotland asked once more.

"Felix," the boy answered. "My name is Felix Jones."

Scotland nodded. "And where exactly is yer mother? I do nae see her anywhere."

"She is down there," the boy repeated. "She hides very well, so it isn't surprising that you weren't able to spot her."

Scotland didn't know why he felt offended by that, but he didn't dare say that to the boy. He was, after all, just a child.

Felix looked out over the horizon, where the boats were still making their progress of disappearing. "You really look like that man," he uttered.

Scotland looked at him. "What man, lad?"

"He usually visits Mother's home when we least expect it," he explained, still looking at the horizon. "He's shorter than you, and has blonde hair, but it isn't hard to find the similarities with the both of you. Are you his brother by any chance?"

This boy surely had a way with words. "I am lad," he answered grimly. "Sadly."

"Why's that?"

Scotland looked to the boy, somehow finding it hard to speak up at first. Was it because he was talking to a child? That had to be it, because normally he had no problem in explaining his horrible relationship with England.

"Me brother is...complicated," Scotland decided. "Now, I am sure ye saw this yerself but me brother is not exactly a good man. He has not been treating our family well, and even I am starting to become afraid of where this might lead us."

Felix nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's me problem now. It's getting late, so go home to yer mother now."

The boy looked to him before nodding and walking away. Scotland watched him go, until he disappeared, and when he looked back to the ocean, the boats were gone, and so were most of the people at the dock.

He sighed to himself. "Foolish brother. I pity ye."

~~~

When Scotland visited the American lands again, he never expected to meet the young boy again, except now he was accompanied by two other boys and two girls. One of the boys looked suspiciously like Netherlands, except he had the same blue eyes as Felix, while the other boy also looked like England, except there also appeared to be a mixture of someone else in him.

The girls were clearly identical twins with their black hair, white bonnets, and blue eyes, though one girl had straight black hair that was kept long and she wore a black dress, while the other girl's hair was wavy, brushed her shoulders, and was wearing a bright colonial dress. 

It didn't take long for them to spot the older nation.

"Hello," Felix greeted. "I never thought I would see you here again."

Scotland wasn't sure if he should reply to that or why he was surprised. It had already been 10 years since he last came here, and the boy didn't look like he even aged ten years. Sure, he looked a little older, but other than that not much had changed the last time Scotland saw him.

Not to mention the children accompanying him appeared to be related to him in some way.

"Felix lad?" Scotland asked as he knelt before him. "It's been ten years, aye?"

The boys behind Felix cursed, while the girls looked concerned. But if Felix was feeling the same way, he was doing a very good job at concealing it.

"Yes, it has," he replied. "Is there something wrong sir?"

Scotland shook his head. "Never mind. I suppose I was being foolish again." But even he knew that he was anything but.

Felix nodded, but his face still expressed concern. "I suppose. So what brings you back here sir?"

Scotland thought about it for a moment. But that was a good question; Why _did_ he come back here again? He obviously wasn't here to visit England (that would be a complete waste anyway), but at the same time he wasn't even sure if he wanted to visit his brother's charge, whose appearance or name he wasn't sure of. 

And he certainly had not expected to once again meet the boy, who barely changed from the first time Scotland met him.

That could only mean one thing, but that was impossible.

"Where yer mother lad?" Scotland then asked.

Felix gave him a weird look. "She isn't here at the moment," he answered. "Do you need to speak to her?"

Scotland shook his head. "I do nae believe I do," he replied before regaining his footing. "I have to go now lad. Take care."

Felix gave him an uncertain wave of the hand as Scotland walked, clearly as confused as the older nation was.

~~~

It's been a long time since then, and Scotland wondered how he could've been so stupid.

When America, the very nation who declared independence from England, was revealed to be a woman and so different in personality, Scotland had to admit that he was stumped. That, and the fact that she was the mother of 51 children also blew his mind.

He was an uncle. A goddamn uncle! And he didn't even fucking know about it!

Damn that woman and her cunning ways. Still, Scotland couldn't help but admire that. It was one of the things he admires in a woman.

Now...

"You seem surprised, I'd even say shocked," remarked the very young man he met all those years ago. Felix Jones/Kirkland, or the state of Massachusetts, stood before him, looking so much like his mother and yet so alike his father. He had England's personality, but he was a true gentlemen, so unlike his old man.

"I'd be lying if I say I'm not," Scotland admitted, before taking a long drag of his cigar. "In fact, I'm surprised that ye managed to stay hidden all this time."

"So are we, but we're glad all the same. It's what helped protect us. Listen Uncle, I'm sorry we kept this from you, but like Mother told the nations who are close to her, it was better if you didn't know."

Scotland opened his mouth to retort, but quickly shut it. Knowing can only take you so far after all.

"Still, it would've been nice if I had known of ye lad."

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I couldn't resist writing about a meeting and interaction between one of the states and Scotland.


	7. Donner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

The lake was so blue, the forest surrounding it so green, the nearby mountains so majestic, and the rocks so white that automatically California wanted to fall into the water and stay there. Mother Gaia always managed to surprise her with her ability to create natural beauty out of anything.

Though she understood for a long time now on why her mother, maternal grandmother, and sometimes even her siblings worship the earth.

But that wasn't the reason why California was here.

In her arms, she carried a bouquet of white roses, yellow roses, cyclamen, and pink carnation, and she wore a long black dress that she had worn during that time. Taking a deep breath, she undid the ribbon keeping the flowers together and sent them flying to the wind, afterwards watching as the wind carried the flowers across the land, some of which landed on the water, other times inside the forest, and the rest went beyond her line of sight.

California watched it all, a somber look on her face. "It didn't have to end like this," she whispered to no one in particular. "You could've played it safe and went the long way, and that way none of that tragedy could've happened to you and the people following you."

She shook her head in self-hate. "You stupid, stupid _fool_."

_~~~Flashback_

_She watched as they came, cutting off from the main group so they could find the supposed short-cut to their chosen location in her lands. Of course, being only seven-years-old at the time, California wanted to warn the pioneers to turn back, that they had nothing to gain from going on that path, but her mother's warnings about talking to strangers overrode that urge. So she stayed back, planning to keep tabs on them for the time._

_She had watched as they were attacked by Indians, had some of their animals killed, but she never expected this to happen._

_When one of their wagons broke after a long and hard trip through the mountains, the group, led by the wealthy Jacob Donner, had been forced to stop to make repairs, and California had never expected that it would be the most dangerous decision they could've made._

_When the snow came, California immediately feared the worst. It came so suddenly and so much of it came down that there were layers upon layers of it. This stranded the Donner Party, and as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the pioneers ran out of food and desperation started to rise._

_California had secretly brought them as much food as she could find, which sadly wasn't very much, but even she couldn't stop what was waiting patiently to happen._

_And unfortunately for her, she had the front seat to it all._

_Starving and afraid, the people came to the decision that one of them had to die so the others could live. Concealed in the trees and falling snow, California then watched with wide eyes as Jacob Donner had his skull bashed in, his skin torn from his corpse, and his flesh eaten. She was able to see his muscle tissue and the bones, and even in modern times she wonders why she didn't immediately throw up._

_But even with that, that didn't stop the deaths._

_Jacob's wife, Elizabeth, ended up perishing alongside her husband, and four of his seven children followed shortly after. To add more insult to injury, Jacob's brother, George, also perished in the tragedy, alongside forty-five others._

_How could she have let this happen? Wasn't she supposed to be their state representative? Wasn't she supposed to look after her people? Why did this happen?_

_Even as she pondered these questions, California was eventually relieved of her burdens when the survivors were rescued, but even as they were taken away, she was left with the frozen bodies of the ones who perished. She stared at Jacob Donner's unrecognizable body, and that was when the tears finally started to come._

_Why?_

_Why did this happen?_

_Why?_

_why...?_

_...why..._

_~~~End Flashback_

A tear ran down California's face, and she made no move to wipe it away. It cascaded down her cheek, fell from her chin, and landed on the soil below her. She sighed, remembering what happened after she went back to her mother.

She had cried for hours, clutching at the older woman's skirts in her tiny hands, all while her mother rubbed her back soothingly, repeating "Oh sweetie" and "You're okay, you're okay".

But it was clear that even America knew that it wasn't going to be okay. It hadn't been okay for the victims of the Donner Party, and it was obvious that the survivors were haunted by it for the rest of their lives.

California opened her eyes again, watching as the flowers that landed in the water below finally submerged, never to be seen again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."


	8. Don't Ask Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

Italy and Romano were tense. Really tense, and the atmosphere was not helping matters.

The brothers had decided to visit New York City (Italy mostly dragged his unwilling brother with him) when they ran across New York and New Jersey, who were on a business trip together and we're heading to the former's apartment. Of course, Italy asked to come along, to Romano's dismay.

The son and daughter of Netherlands didn't seem pleased with the suggestion, but they complied, mostly out of politeness.

So, here they were, sitting uncomfortably in New York's apartment as the brother and sister worked on paperwork, not saying a word to the Italian brothers. It wasn't a secret to anyone that having many Italian immigrants and even problems with the Italian mafia, New York and New Jersey weren't really pleased with being around the two men due to the latter. Although they didn't seem to have a problem with Italy openly, privately was another story.

Even Italy seemed to be affected by the tension.

"Ve...Ryker, Alida, are you okay?" he asked. Near him, Romano snapped his head at him, looking ready to shout at him.

"We're fine," New Jersey answered curtly, not looking Italy's way.

"I would apologize for the mess in here. I wasn't expecting any guests today," New York joined in, his expression anything but pleasant.

Now, Italy may be a cowardly, weak, and naive man, but he wasn't stupid. He knew why the siblings were a little hostile, even if he didn't like it. The two had to deal with the Italian mafia all the time in the past during the 1900 immigration. Of course, Italy didn't need to be told to know that the siblings were pissed about the amount of criminals that were brought to their lands.

Heck, he'd be pissed too!

Well, at least this visit was a little more pleasant, because the last time the Italian brothers came to the U.S., the siblings were openly hostile. They glared at the brothers in anger, which scared Italy so much that he automatically blamed Romano for sending the mafia, which resulted in a heated argument between him and Romano. 

Well, it was pretty one-sided, considering how Romano was the one yelling, while Italy was apologizing like the world was ending.

The siblings watched on with irritated looks on their faces.

"How is Mother able to deal with them again?" New Jersey asked, never taking her eyes off the arguing brothers.

"How should I know?" New York countered.

Back in reality, New Jersey called, "Are you two going to stand there all day, or are you going to tell us why you're here?"

"Please, we didn't want to come!" Romano spat, glaring at the girl's back.

"Then leave."

Romano whirled on New York, who never tore his eyes from the paper he was working on. "My sister and I have better things to do than listen to you whine about every inconsistent thing there is. Now, if memory serves me right, don't you have a meeting you need to get ready for tomorrow, specifically one held by our mother?"

Romano blubbered, while Italy screamed, "Oh no!"

He then grabbed his older brother and rushed out the door, leaving it open in the process. New Jersey sighed in irritation as she closed the door behind the Italian brothers and went back to her work.

"Again, how does Mother deal with them?" she asked.

"Ask Mother that," was her only reply.


	9. Eerie Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by OfficialBookOwl on Wattpad*

The waves almost sounded like bombs now that Washington (or William) thought about it, but, instead of being frightened by it, it was relaxing, always being there to remind him that it was real and it always will be.

Not only that, but so was the music coming from his sister, Oregon's, harp. With the setting sun across the water, the waves rolling up onto the sandy beach, Oregon playing her harp, and California dancing nearby, Washington could dare himself to say that it was like Heaven, or just plain paradise.

It was one of those rare times when they could all forget their history, what they were, and act like real siblings. Of course, they would always be that way, but Washington loved it when these moments would seem to last forever, no matter what.

It was also where they could pretend their mother was alright, not constantly stressed, working herself almost to death for her children, and caring for said children at the same time.

"Madre, you need rest," a worried California told their mother after the latter came home with a limp and bags the color of the blackest night under her eyes.

The other states nodded in agreement.

Their mother tried to laugh it off. "Don't worry, I'll be as right as rain after I rest. Don't get paranoid for my sake."

The states glared at her, and she held up her hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright, I'll rest." Thankfully she did, and they made sure their mother didn't leave her bed until she was all rested up.

"What's wrong?" It was California, now sitting beside Washington. The sun's remaining light shone through her long dark brown hair and made her green eyes even brighter. If she wasn't his half-sister, Washington would've admitted he wouldn't have been able to keep his eyes off her, like so many others.

"It's nothing," he answered, knowing it was fruitless to hide from someone like California.

Sure, Cali was a very optimistic and carefree girl, which was what made her California, but if there was one thing she wasn't, she wasn't blind when it comes to what people are feeling. Washington didn't know if she inherited that from Spain or their mother.

After all, she was the freaking spitting image of the former!

"Don't you lie to me William Washington Jones," California said firmly, staring hard at her half-brother. "You should know better than to lie to me. Now, tell me what's going through that head of yours."

Washington sighed, unable to escape now. "It's the nations."

California stared at him, silently urging him to continue.

"They're going to be staying in the family gathering home for a while, and I'm worried they're going to find out of Mother's true identity and her secrets."

"What about Mother and her secrets?" This time, Oregon was sitting beside Washington, appearing concerned.

She had every right to be.

Washington repeated what he said, and Oregon tensed, her concern clearly intensifying. California looked grim in the face, with her lips pressed together and her forehead crinkled with thought.

"This is bad," she mused. "This is really bad."

The mansions that belonged to their mother were not her actual homes, but the family gathering homes that she would stay in, in order to keep up her façade as an immature male nation. However, there was one problem.

"They're not going to be pleased the nations will be there," Oregon said, her face drained of any color.

Washington would've felt the same if he didn't force himself to stay calm. "You know how many of them hate the ones who try to inflict any harm upon our mother, and they're already protective of all of us as well."

"This is going to end so poorly," Oregon replied.

"Then let's just hope they don't get too out of hand," California suggested sternly. "First things first though, we need to tell the others about this, and make sure they stay as far away as they can."

The last time one of them got too close, someone got hurt, and, just to put it bluntly, those things are not something you should mess with, and they can easily get out of hand.

When Washington looked up again, suddenly the entire scene seemed eerie; the sunset turning to the color of blood, the water seemingly filling itself with hungry predators, and even the air around him was suffocating.

Now, it was more than worry that Washington felt. It was fear.

This could go wrong in so many ways, and there would be nothing they could do about it.

If that happened, then not only will their mother's true identity and the personified states be discovered, but the other dark secrets America has will come to light, including the secret that involves more than one otherworldly entity.

The nations better watch their step least they fall down a never-ending sinkhole. They were already on very thin ice as it was.


	10. Enemies and Family

They've done it again.

The pale faces have massacred another village of Native people, but without their fire sticks. Oh no, the pale faces have brought their diseases, and it was now negatively impacting the people. Now Migisi had to watch as the people she knew succumbed to them, their current medicine herbs unable to heal them.

Each time, Migisi silently cried, in so much pain herself that she couldn't even make a sound.

And her mother seemed negatively impacted herself, but for a different reason altogether.

Native America was very ill herself, but Migisi knew it wasn't from the illnesses the pale faces have brought, but from the fact that so many Native tribes were being wiped out.

How Migisi hated the white men, especially when her mother ordered her to disguise herself as a man so she could protect herself. The both of them knew that even here, women were often seen as property by the men and didn't have the same rights as them, though Native America and Migisi happened to be the exception because of their "spiritual" positions.

But even Migisi could see that they weren't exactly pleased about that.

And even as Migisi was despairing the fact that her mother wanted her to live among the people who hunted the Native people like they were hunting game, she was approached by one of the chiefs.

"What troubles you young one?" he asked kindly.

The chief, Chief Great Bear, was someone you could say served as a father-figure to Migisi, even though she never met him until a human year ago. There was just something about him that made Migisi want to be near the man.

Now, to those who knew about Native America, her children were conceived without a father, though the older nation had a good idea that Mother Earth was involved in that. So, as Elsu, Honan, and Migisi grew up without a father in their lives, sometimes the leaders of their mother's people would serve as them, sometimes without even trying.

Migisi looked at Chief Great Bear, knowing her anguish was present on her face. "I am afraid, Chief Great Bear. Mother has ordered me to become a boy of the white man, and I fear that they will suspect me."

Chief Great Bear said nothing to this for a couple moments, then he looked sternly at her. "You have the skin of the white man child, and yet you are still one of us, daughter of our guardian. You have lived among us since the moment you first took a breath, and you shared the same air as us and treasured it, as we."

Migisi looked at the chief, confusion on her face. "Chief Great Bear?"

"Migisi of the South, you have to follow your mother's order. I know this frightens you so, but even I fear that the white man will target you if you are among us. So many of our neighbors have been slaughtered in cold blood, and you may be next. Migisi of the South, you must keep the enemy at bay, no matter what you have to do. Do you understand?"

Although a little stunned, Migisi nodded, and she really did understand, especially after other chiefs and even a couple of braves (some of whom were like older brothers to her) told her to do the same. Then, when tragedy came knocking on their own doors, Migisi knew she had to heed their words.

So, she took a hunting knife and cut off her long hair, using her reflection in a nearby stream to make sure she looked like a boy, stole a baby's shirt from a traveling white family, and separated herself from the people she knew and grew up with.

Elsu had already been found by a man who allowed his own people to massacre Elsu's native people, and all so they could satisfy their greed. When Migisi first met him, she was scared of him, and even now she wants him gone. And now she knew that Honan would be found by another white man, who was so alike her in species.

And it wouldn't be long now for herself.

Migisi knew she would likely never hear from her mother again, because as soon as she warned Migisi and ordered her to protect herself, she disappeared. Migisi doubted that her older brothers knew where she had gone, because she wouldn't be here otherwise.

And she wouldn't have to become the woman who disguised herself as a man to deceive the people who would try to use her for their own gain, to protect her own children, and, most of all, become the woman who was nothing like her male self, and was in actuality cruel, ruthless, manipulative, hostile, and apathetic.

She would create Alfred F. Jones, with its sole purpose being to protect Emily F. Jones and her children.

Now, it was time for the time being that she say goodbye to Princess Migisi of the South, and greet Emily F. Jones. This place would not protect Migisi either way.


	11. Fathers

America watched with a bittersweet smile on her face, making sure France and two of the daughters she had with him, North and South Dakota, didn't leave her sight.

Although she knew how well France had raised her brother Canada, he was still one of the cruelest people that she had the misfortune of knowing. Not only did he never bother to check on her to see how she was faring, but he also never defended her when she needed it the most.

It seemed that even he forgot how stressful and pressurizing being a superpower meant, or the fact that he wanted to raise America himself.

America truly missed that France, and wondered what caused him to change.

She won't lie when she says that the cause for the French Revolution had been part of her fault, but France acted like she was fully responsible. Did he forget that he was the one who decided to support her during her Revolution? She didn't ask him to help her in the first place!

Now, whenever France would speak to her, America would give him the cold shoulder.

"If you can't handle being the dignified nation you say you are Mr. Bonnefoy, then you have given yourself no right to be here," she told him coldly. "Either you leave and don't come back, or you sit down and shut up. I have no problem in ripping out your tongue to make the latter come true if it comes to that. So what will it be?"

France decided the latter, and thankfully said no other word throughout the rest of the meeting, and if America noticed his hurt expression, she ignored it as she continued with her presentation.

He didn't deserve her acknowledgement when he abandoned her like she was nothing more than unwanted trash.

Now, here she was, watching as France happily danced with London and Paris outside the building. As America had expected, France was both horrified and in awe at North and South Dakota's human names, and the sight made her almost die of laughter. However, now France wanted to be the father that his daughters grew up without.

"Amerique, surely you are not zhat naïve," France had said. "Zhe girls need zheir father."

"I am aware of that France," America replied with a deadpan. "I'm not the stupid child you thought I was."

France flinched. "Zhat's not what I—"

"Really?" America asked with a sneer. "I beg to differ, because the way you've been acting around me before finding out I was a woman and a mother, including what you just said, told me otherwise. However, you are right about one thing: I am anything but naïve, and I believe all of you made sure of that. I am giving you permission to spend some time with London and Paris, but let me warn you."

She leaned into France's ear, sneering, "If you harm one hair on their heads, I will remove what makes you a man and make you wish that you never existed as a nation."

America felt France's drop in body temperature, as well as his shuddering from said change. He nodded vigorously as America walked away.

Now, just seeing her daughters having fun with the man who created them, the man who treated their mother poorly, tugged at America's heartstrings. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it was anything but that. By now she can only hope that France doesn't attempt to teach them anything about seduction or anything of the like, or else she will follow with her threat.

Oh the thought of doing that right now was so tempting.

However, she was aware of what her children needed in their lives, and that was their fathers. She didn't have the right to take that from them, even if some of her children's fathers were horrible people.

America just hoped that this decision would not come back to haunt her.


	12. Fire Burns My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Sad-stories2 on Wattpad*

It was unnaturally hot today in their states, and a five-year-old Oregon looked up in confusion. She then wiped sweat from her forehead, while the toddler Nevada shifted where he was, uncomfortable.

She picked him up, bouncing him up and down on her knee so he can get a little bit of cool air. It should not be this hot. Why was it so hot?

Oregon got that California's area was known for very warm weather, but this felt...wrong somehow. And when she thought about it, if where she was this hot, then that meant...

Oregon snatched up Nevada and rushed to find her mother. Something was wrong with California.

Horribly wrong.

~~~

It all started at 5:18 a.m., and California had woken up in extreme pain. It was so horrible that she couldn't even scream, and it took her a moment more to realize that her entire room was shaking, the few items she had on the shelves about to fall off. She struggled, but she managed to get out the bed and get under it, praying that the ceiling wouldn't collapse on top of her and crush her.

It seemed like an eternity went by before the earthquake finally stopped, and California sighed a little as the pain went away for a moment, but then she clutched at her chest, finally screaming as a new kind of pain overtook her. She felt blood stain her nightdress and her fingers as she tried to ease the pain, and started to choke on her own blood as a result.

Then her door slammed open.

Through her blurred vision, California recognized that curly amber-blonde hair anywhere. "Ma...dre..." she wheezed, unable to get anything else out.

The older woman said nothing, but, as gently as she could, she helped California onto her back and carried her out of the building, which was so hot that it took California a moment to realize that her house was fire too.

She whimpered. San Francisco was burning, and the people were helpless to stop it. Others were dying from either the earthquake or the fire, and California felt them pass away in horrible agony. She clung to her mother's shirt, which she found was burnt a little and covered with a little blood, unable to find any other comfort. 

America glanced back at her, but didn't stop running, and she continued to run even as they were out of the building, as they passed more aflame buildings, people running for their lives, and even other people dying. The older woman just kept running until she found her carriage and ordered the driver to get them to Oregon.

The driver wasted no time. He flicked the horses and commanded them to race out of there. California tried to speak, saying that she didn't want to leave her people to deal with the disaster alone, but the only sound that came out was a choked splutter.

Her mother placed something wet on her forehead, and the coolness helped ease some of the pain, but she whimpered as the pain just continued on and on without end.

When would this all stop? How much was the fire going to destroy until it was finally controlled? Would it continue on to the rest of the Californian cities?

Another whimper at the last part.

"Stay with me honey," California heard America order. "Stay with me, okay?"

"B-But it...it..."

"Hush. Just try to focus on staying awake hon. I know it hurts, but you can't fall asleep right now, okay?"

She kept saying that even when they finally arrived at Oregon.

~~~

It was several days before the fire finally was controlled and put out, but the devastation was tremendous. Over 3,000 people had perished from the disaster, and the earthquake and fire destroyed over 28,000 buildings, leaving many people homeless. Also, as it turns out, the earthquake had destroyed the city's water maims, which made it harder for firefighters to fight the flames.

California had spent that whole time in bed, ranging to waking up in pain, to weeping silently, and then passing out once again. She finally woke up when the fire went out, and she was now standing with her mother and full-blooded siblings in the destruction that was San Francisco.

She stared at the destruction that was once her beautiful city, and she knew she had officially broken down by then. Her siblings soon joined her, with Florida hugging her sister, Texas placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Mississippi sadly rubbing her back. 

The other states, the older ones of course, watched the scene with shock, and they made sure the little ones didn't see any of it. In fact, they did the wise thing and took them out of there, refusing to tell them what was going on, and the little ones went silent when their questions remained unanswered.

As for America, she walked among the ruins of San Francisco, and although she looked calm about it all, you would be able to tell from her body language that she too was devastated about all of it. Her wrist was also covered in burns, which was covered in a bloodstained bandage.

California admired how her mother had ignored her own pain for her daughter, but at the same time felt guilty for being in the way of her personal comfort.

She was smacked upside the head of course. "Gabriella!" America demanded, her tone scolding and angry, which automatically made California flinch. "None of us predicted that this would happen, and you and your siblings should know that I would go to Hell and back if it meant protecting you. I'm your mother for God's sake!"

California silently agreed.

Still, that didn't make it hurt less.

~~~

Despite the devastation, the people of California had made a quick recovery and rebuilt, making the buildings much safer and durable, unlike the buildings that were so hastily built during the Gold Rush.

And today, California still has the scars of that time, and it was also that day that made her into the girl she is now. As her state was prone to earthquakes, she was able to deal with the pain a bit better and lived each day like it was her last.

"But how can you be so sure that this won't happen again?" Florida asked her sister in worry.

California smiled sadly at her. "I don't," she admitted. "In fact, Mother Earth is a very unpredictable woman indeed, and preventing her from causing massive destruction and death is impossible."

"But..."

"I'm scared too mi querida hermana (my dear sister), but it's just the same with tsunamis. We can predict when and where it might hit, but we cannot prevent the amount of destruction they cause."

Florida nodded, still a bit down, but agreeing nevertheless.


	13. Forgive for Me?

America was not looking forward to visiting Japan for the first time in ages.

Reason being? Well, she was also bringing one of her youngest daughters, Kyleen, with her. Now you may be wondering: Why is that a bad thing America? Well, that's because Kyleen is the personification of Hawaii, who was only a four-year-old child when her father had to bomb her against his will in the mid-1940's.

She didn't want to see the guilt in Japan's eyes when he laid eyes on his daughter, but she did promise to visit him.

Now, although Kyleen did not blame her father for the Pearl Harbor bombings, Japan would relent, knowing him. It was already bad enough that he blamed himself for the redundant killings of innocent men, women, and children on that day, and to know that he had unknowingly harmed his own daughter just worsened that self-blame.

However, the latter would be enough to drive any loving parent over the edge.

Still, America promised she would go, but she warned Japan that she was bringing Kyleen along, mostly because the younger girl wished to see her father.

Now, she could only hope this wouldn't end so horribly.

~~~

America smiled as she held a jumpy Kyleen's hand. Japan's home always brought a sense of peace and even reminded her of her own home. Kyleen loved all the plants that surrounded her father's home, and clearly she wanted to explore. Like Japan, America liked simple things, but didn't mind receiving elegant gifts from time to time. Her earlier years as a colony made sure of that.

"Ohiyo, America-san," called Japan, flinching a little when his eyes landed on Kyleen. Kyleen just smiled at her father, completely at ease.

It made America's heart ache.

"Good morning to you as well, Japan," America greeted back. She let go of Kyleen's hand, allowing the little girl to explore throughout the garden. "Stay where I can see you Kyleen!"

"Okay!" Kyleen called back as she explored the area, oblivious to the world around her.

The duo, all while Kyleen played, chatted with each other while sipping some green tea. After seeing her drink, much less enjoy the tea, Japan found himself staring at America in bewilderment. Said woman, upon noticing, giggled.

"I need variety in my life Japan, what do you expect?" she asked with another chuckle. Japan blushed and returned his attention to his own steaming cup.

America watched Japan for a long while, seeing him glance from time to time at their daughter, who was still exploring the gardens around her father's home. Self-blame flashed through his eyes, and America's heart lurched. She needed the older nation to see that he wasn't at fault, even if it meant taking a long time.

"Japan," America called, receiving no response. "Kiku."

Finally the man opposite her looked in her direction.

"This needs to stop," she said.

"What needs to stop?" Japan asked.

"You need to stop blaming yourself for Pearl Harbor. I know you enough to know that you didn't want to go through with the mission, and Kyleen knows that too. Why do you think she never looks at you with contempt or even fear?"

Japan's bangs hid his eyes, but America could feel all the emotions rolling off him. "It's so hard," he admitted shamefully. "My boss wanted me to go arong with it, and I didn't..." Japan unleashed a sob at this point. "I didn't want to hurt my own nakama. Now...I rearized I didn't just hurt you and your people, but arso my own daughter. How can I not brame myserf for that?"

America stared at Japan with a sad expression, more than understanding how he felt. If a loving parent hurt their own child, they would never forgive themselves, and it was a feeling that America knew too well when she couldn't protect her children from the world. However, she had to bring herself to forgive herself, because guilt was like a virus, eating you from the inside out, especially if you allow it.

She didn't want that to happen to Japan.

So, she told him all the pain and sadness her children had to go through with her, from the Revolutionary War, where they were terrified twenty-four-seven that their mother would never come back.

The War of 1812, where many of her children suffered either physically, psychologically, or spiritally, and where they saw the horror that was England and Canada.

The splitting of the U.S., knowing their bosses were inflicting pain upon their mother, and a conflict that led to the Civil War.

The World Wars, where their mother only fought in because she wanted to keep her children safe. America admitted that in those two wars, she didn't join to help the other nations, but to protect her children from harm, but she didn't blame Japan because he was under orders from his cruel boss.

"Japan, I know you don't want to forgive yourself," America began, "but please, can you try to for Kyleen? She needs her father, and I know you need her just as much. My children have been growing up without a father in their lives, and while I don't trust the other nations, I trust you, and I know you would never harm Kyleen on purpose. Can you do that for me? For Kyleen?"

Japan looked conflicted. First he was reluctant, but America also knew he couldn't deny how much he wanted to be in Kyleen's life. What America asked is never an easy question, and it was hard for Japan to answer, but he wanted to so badly. Finally, he looked back up at America, the mother of his child, and nodded.

America smiled at him. "Thank you."


	14. The General (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Leonidas13 on Wattpad*
> 
> Note: The OC used here belongs to Leonidas13 and asked me to make a one-shot (or a couple in this case) using that OC, so I don't take credit for her creation.

America blinked, wondering if she heard right.

"Are you sure General Hannah?" she then asked.

The woman before her was someone she respected greatly, even though the woman was a ticking time bomb that was waiting to designate. Her beauty also was off the charts despite the scars that made up the majority of her body, her amputated leg, and the fact that she was deaf, only being able to speak and communicate with America because of her powers and experience.

She was Hannah Phoenix Fire, daughter of Poseidon and Chaos, the Greek god of the sea and the creator of the universe respectively.

Hannah's very old eyes stared hard at America. "I'm very sure Migisi, and don't you dare argue with me now. You are stressed and tired from your job, which is why I will be going in your place for a couple of days so you can rest and spend time with the children."

America still looked uncertain. "I-I don't know if that's--"

"I said don't argue with me Migisi," Hannah growled in warning. "My decision has been made, and I will not let you persuade me otherwise. Now, hurry on home and rest, and if I hear that you did anything but that, I will send you to the underworld for a whole day!"

That deterred America, who nodded submissively. "Yes ma'am." She then got up, bowed to the general, and left without another word. Satisfied, Hannah turned to her cousin, who had been hiding the entire time.

"You're not very good at hiding Apollo."

A hiss of dismay was heard, and the god appeared before her. "How are you able to sense me?"

"You give off a lot of light, so you're basically a beacon." Hannah gave Apollo a deadpan look. "Now, you know what to do, right?"

Apollo saluted. "Yes ma'am!"

~~~

Making herself look like America's secretary wasn't that hard, though Hannah had to work extra hard to hide her scars, which proved to be a chore in itself. In the end, she gave up. It wasn't like she was going to hide her identity from those foolish nations.

Though, thanks to all the wars she faced in her 23 million year existence, she had been in many life and death situations that would've killed her had she been human. The scar that was located in front of her chest came from a Roman soldier who tried to cut her in half, while the scars on her shoulders were from a bullet shot by a Nazi soldier.

Least to say, those two practically signed their death warrants when they tried to kill her.

Now, where the hell was the address to where the meeting was taking place?

Hannah hissed in dismay. God damn it, she should've kept the damn paper nearby! She was sure she placed it somewhere within arm's reach!

Then Hannah spotted it on the counter nearby, and resisted the urge to force her head through the mirror.

Why was it that she was a goddess, and she couldn't remember even the simplest of things?!

Oh well, at least it was there. Now she needed to remember how to drive a car.

~~~

After an hour of misadventures of driving the car to the meeting location, Hannah finally managed to get there without harming any other drivers (though she did laugh like a maniac while doing so), and was in the process of finding the room where the meeting was being hosted. Of course, thanks to the yelling, Hannah doubted she even needed the paper to help her find it.

Those fools were just asking to die if they acted like this in a war.

So Hannah teleported to the door and slammed it open, silencing the room within. Then, once she walked in, she immediately felt the dreadful tension, which made her smirk. Seems these fools were not as stupid as she thought.

But it won't matter here.

"Y-You...!" wheezed out a certain British representative, and Hannah couldn't help but smile condescendingly his direction.

"Yes, me," she replied darkly. "It's been a long time Arthur, a very long time since I have last spoken with you. Can't say that was the most pleasant experience though with your pathetic whining."

England looked offended, but he didn't dare to open his mouth. Good, it seems he learned to humble himself when around the people who could decimate him in an instant.

Still...

"E-Excuse me...?" a hesitant, fearful voice asked, and Hannah turned to see one of America's great friends, Lithuania, trying to compose himself. "W-Where's America?"

"She's not feeling well today," Hannah lied smoothly. "So I will be taking her place for a couple of days. Oh, and if I hear even a sliver of argument that doesn't relate to the meeting, your next destination will be out that window. Understand?"

No one responded.

"I didn't think so. Alright, let's get started."


	15. The General (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Leonidas13 on Wattpad*
> 
> Once more, I don't take credit for the creation of Hannah Phoenix Fire. All of that goes to Leonidas13.

"Alright, let's get started," Hannah announced. "Today we're going to be discussing global warming, and if any of you have a proper solution, please step forward and present it. After everyone's finished with that, we'll then decide which one would probably work. Who wants to go first?"

No one raised their hands, and Hannah raised an eyebrow at this.

"Am I going to have to pick one of you out like children?" she questioned, feeling the irritation creeping in. "I sincerely hope you all know that you're not children anymore. Good gods, America's children are better behaved than this."

That was enough to snap the nations out of their stupors, exactly as Hannah planned, and many hands went into the air. Hannah scanned everyone before landing on the nation nearest her.

"You!" she ordered, pointing to a startled Canada. "Get your ass up there and show us what you've got!" She then sat down as America's ex-brother struggled to get to the front of the room and get his presentation ready. Hannah resisted the urge to laugh at that pathetic display; she would've known that America's ex-brother would be as spineless as America and Utah said.

Either way, Canada managed to get his presentation ready, and from there he began to present the ideas of using solar energy instead of oil, which would at least tone down the climate change, even if it could only be by a little bit.

Hannah nodded when Canada finished with his presentation. That wasn't a bad idea at all, though she still had to hear the other nations' perspectives before she came to a decision.

China went next. His presentation on the topic was basically the same, though he was proposing lowering the population like he was doing in other countries so there were only two children per family or allowing people (especially couples) to not have children if they wished. Doing so would not only not put so much strain on the economy, but also tone down the climate change by a lot.

Hannah nodded, pleased that China didn't even think of blaming his problems on America even once during his presentation. Perhaps he was smart enough to know what would happen should he do so.

Still, she wasn't counting on that.

England came next, and he made it his personal mission to not look at Hannah as he set himself to getting his own presentation up and running. Hannah found herself smirking again at seeing the fear on the foolish nation's face; she enjoyed showing him and that foolish George III just who they were dealing with when they decided to be brats.

Anyway, England agreed with the suggestions of Canada and China, but he questioned if they got started with themselves, then what good would it do? Narrowing her eyes, Hannah realized that the fool had a point, especially when the least developed countries were concerned. Almost like he read her mind, England proceeded to ask the other nations questions on what they could do about the least developed countries like those in Africa and even Afghanistan.

From there, the other nations gave their opinions, but by the end of the meeting, no one could really come to a decision.

So Hannah decided to end the meeting there.

"Well, I must admit that was the most mature that I've seen all of you," she remarked as she gathered the papers she would give to America. "Anyway, thank you for your time, but I must be going now." Hannah then moved to pack up her things.

"W-Wait!"

She paused, looking up at the nations. "What is it?"

"Aren't you going to present?"

Thank god she remembered this next part. "No. America had nothing to share for this meeting. I'm merely here to listen to your opinions so she could come up with a suitable option for the problem at hand. Now, by your leave."

The next time she moved to leave, no one stopped her.

Though, from the raised voices she left behind, they were probably discussing her. Hannah wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

After all, she knew that would come up sooner or later.

~~~

As soon as the scarred woman left, the meeting room went into chaos once more.

There was questions like "Who the hell was that?!" and "Why is she here in America's place?!". The list can go on and on when these crazy people are concerned.

"ENOUGH!" shrieked Germany, and just like that the room was silent. Now, the buffer nation looked ready to throw himself out the window. "Does anyone know who zhat voman is?"

"I do," groaned England, like he was dreading that topic being brought up. "She's Hannah Phoenix Fire, and she's a goddess."

"What?!"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"Just bloody shut up and listen to me!" Once the room went silent again, England slumped against his chair. "I met that woman once, only four-hundred years ago, back when America was still a colony. She was probably the most beautiful and yet ugly woman I had ever seen, with her scars and all, and I actually said that to her face."

The room flinched.

"It didn't end well, for she punched me so hard I went flying. I was never respectful towards her, being the arrogant person I was back then, and it's clear that she hasn't forgiven me."

Suddenly everyone remembered the female general who fought in their wars and sustained wounds that some of the scars on her person, and paled.

Fuck.

~~~

Now, back at America's place, Hannah found the nation and her children crowded around a giant board game, something related to "Battleships" or something. As soon as she entered, America looked Hannah over a couple before looking into her face with a deadpanned expression on her face

"You crashed the car, didn't you?"

Hannah just grinned, and America looked ready to face-plant against the floor for her superior's crazy antics.

General Hannah was probably going to bring about the death of her sooner or later. That was, if the nations didn't do that first.


	16. The General (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Leonidas13 on Wattpad*
> 
> *Hannah Phoenix Fire once more does not belong to me.*

Why did the nations get the feeling that something bad was about to happen?

Oh, that's right, because a certain general was back for the meeting the next day, and she had brought some painfully familiar guests with her (at least to England, France, and Canada).

Hannah scanned the nations, finding that some of them looked confused on what the hell was going on, and the others--being the three members of the FACE family--were staring at the people she brought with her with horror, disbelief, and even anger.

Said guests were men that America had worked with during the American Revolution, very important figures that helped her gain her independence. The first man was obviously the very first President of the United States, George Washington, and he scanned the nations with a calculative gaze that hide his emotions very well.

The man beside him, who wasn't making any attempts to hide his distaste for England, was Alexander Hamilton, and he even gazed at the other nations with hostility, like they were England's allies.

The next two men was the spy Hercules Mulligan and the military man John Laurens. Mulligan, like Washington, kept his emotions in check, but it was clear that he was on edge around the nations, specifically England. Laurens was the same, though he kept stealing warning glances towards Hamilton from time to time.

Finally, the last man with them was General Lafayette, and he was standing in the position that a general would during the American Revolution. His own calculative and distrustful gaze swooped over the nations, causing a certain few of get uncomfortable.

Hannah scanned over everyone. "Heads up gentlemen," she ordered, walking to America's seat. "Today we're going to be discussing the topic of global warming once more, and we're going to have to come to a decision of what course to take together. So, I will count off the proposals one by one.

"First was you Mr. Williams, in which you proposed using solar energy instead of oil. Then, there was you Mr. Wang, where you proposed lowering the population to two children per family or none at all. Finally, Mr. Kirkland, you proposed that we focus on the least-developed countries first. Am I correct so far?"

Please say yes, please say yes.

The nods of agreement silenced Hannah's worries. "Good." She then took out the papers that America had written for her. "I've spoken with America about your proposals, and she says that she understands where you all are coming from, but that there are some flaws to your plans."

"Huh?!" demanded some certain nations, but Hannah's warning glare silenced them.

"Keep your opinions to yourselves for the time being gentlemen," she warned. "It would be a shame if I had to report you for your childish behavior."

"That goes for you as well, Britain," warned Hamilton, his eyes filled with ice. "It would be a shame if a bullet went through your heart now, wouldn't it?"

"Mr. Hamilton," warned Washington, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, but Hamilton shrugged it off.

"You know it's true Mr. President," he continued. "In fact, you saw yourself that he couldn't care less about anyone but himself."

"That's enough, Mr. Hamilton!" Washington hissed now, his face now contorted with warning. "We are here to discuss solutions to a current problem, not point out each other's sins. I understand that you have never forgiven that man's soldiers for killing Mr. Laurens, but this is not the time nor the place for that."

"But--"

"Please, old friend." Laurens placed a comforting hand on Hamilton's shoulder. "Calm yourself. It's been centuries now, and Mr. President is right. This isn't the time nor the place to unleash those feelings."

Hamilton stared at Laurens for a few moments, before he grumbled to himself and kept silent.

Hannah nodded to the men. "Thank you gentlemen. Anyway, for your proposal Mr. Williams, America has stated that while using solar energy could be a good way to tone down the climate change, there's actually no actual source that's causing the climate change. Of course, she agrees that the fumes from cars and other modern technology is one of the causes, but there's still no actual source."

Despite himself, Canada slowly nodded.

"For you, Mr. Wang, Mr. Kirkland, America has stated that this will cause problems if the law is passed in other countries, specifically the least-developed countries. Mostly for the latter, the people there do not have enough education to tell them that having too many children can put strain on the economy and on the families themselves.

"Also, there's the fact that the people from other countries like America's will have children if they're from poor families or not. For another thing, there will be those who will disagree with the law, which can lead to violent riots. However, she agrees that this will allow people to have the psychological option to not have children if they wish."

The two men looked at each other, expressions saying nothing, though Hannah knew enough to know that something was going between them, and it wasn't good.

Mr. Lafayette was fingering his revolver now, having seen this too, and this finally caused England and China to flinch, their backs straighter than normal as they moved to look at anything but them.

Fools.

"Now, for the rest of the meeting today, we will be discussing what we can do about each of your proposals. So, let's get started.

~~~

By the time the meeting ended, they had all come to the conclusion that in order to use all three proposals, they were going to have to start by educating the poor people in the least-developed countries. Afterwards, they were going to have to find a way on how to harness solar energy to solve one part of the climate change.

And by the end of the meeting, Hannah was gathering up the papers that she would give to America. "Thank you for your time once again," she said. "America will be returning next time just so you all know."

She and the men she brought with her moved to leave.

"W-Wait!"

They stopped, turning around to find Canada standing there.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Who are you to America? And why did you bring them here?" the second oldest of the North American siblings demanded, pointing rudely at the men behind Hannah, who frowned in the process.

Faintly, Hannah heard Hamilton whisper, "That's America's brother?" He snorted. "God, he's more troublesome in person!"

"Agreed," stated Washington.

But Hannah pretended she didn't hear them as she addressed Canada.

"Is that any of your concern Mr. Williams?" she questioned. "After all, I don't think you're in any position to ask questions from me."

Canada looked ready to retort until Japan stepped up. "Forgive us Hannah-sama. Is it arright if we ask you who you are to America-san and why you brought these men of high importance to this meeting?"

"Hm. Well, since you asked nicely, I'll do that." Hannah looked at the other nations, who were sitting up straight as sticks now. "I was a personal acquaintance to America's mother before her three children were born, and I must say she was a wonderful woman to talk to. Very wise as well, though she never bragged about it, stating that I knew more than she could ever know.

"Because of that, I was there with Mother Gaia to witness the birth of her children. She became pregnant each time without a consort, and the births were the same as America's with her children. Elsu of the Southwest was born first, the only one of his siblings to look exactly like his mother.

"Afterwards, I watched as the infant Elsu was taken from his mother to be raised by Spain's hands. She never forgave him for that either, despite the fact that Elsu would visit her whenever he was able. Afterwards, Native America gave birth to Honan of the North and Migisi of the South. Those two were raised among their mother's people, though the youngest was the only one to have awakened her mother's powers early on.

"I watched as Migisi was ordered to disguise herself as a boy to protect herself, and I watched her so-called childhood with you Mr. Kirkland. You may have called yourself her caretaker, but you were absent for most of her young life, and not only that, but you didn't know her as well as you thought."

England jumped up, face filled with rage. "H-How dare you say such lies--"

"Lies?" repeated a disgusted Hannah. "Since when have I ever lied about something as trivial as this? You should know that better than anyone Mr. Kirkland, and it's also why I brought these men here today. It's because they are not fond of you for trying to crush them under your heel, thinking that you were superior and had every right to do as such. That was the reason why America rebelled against you to begin with.

"You treated her as if she were property, and not someone who had feelings about the matter. You only cared about your own comfort and nothing more. So you have no right to call yourself her caretaker."

England went white, and he collapsed back into his seat, deathly silent.

"Now, where was I? Oh yes! Even after Migisi gained independence, you continued to treat her like you had during the American Revolution, killing her second eldest brother in the process. You used his death against her on multiple occasions, and as she got older and became a mother to more and more children, you all were forgetting how your actions were affecting her, am I right?"

The nations flinched, even the ones who were not completely guilty. The men behind her were either shaking their heads in disappointment or disgust, but Hannah didn't bother to figure it out at this time.

"America is just like her mother, as is Mexico, and that's why I'm attached to her. Everything that concerns her and her children is my concern, and I will not allow you fools to continue pushing her any longer. Now, I want you all to listen very carefully."

An insane grin broke out across Hannah's face, and she knew that she was emitting a dark aura, but didn't care. "Continue to act this way, and there will be a declaration of war on your desks, only this time...I will make sure that none of you, except a select few, survive. Am I clear?"

No one answered.

"I will ask you again. Am. I. C l e a r?"

Hearing the threat in her voice, the nations vigorously nodded. Seeing this, Hannah smirked.

"I thought so. Now, have a good day!" She and the men left without another word, leaving behind a very, very silent room.

Well, that was a first.

~~~

"General Hannah..." America began, staring at the woman and her entourage. "What did you do?"

Hannah grinned. "Nothing much!" she chirped. "Just gave those idiots a warning!"

"Don't you mean a threat?"

"That too!"

America looked to her former boss and coworkers, some of whom were looking at Hannah like she had gone bonkers, if she hadn't already.

"And why did you all agree to go again?" she asked.

Washington looked to Hannah before answering. "The general wanted us to come along, and I agreed because they were going and I didn't want them to get into trouble." He even sent a specific glance towards Hamilton, who was grumbling to himself.

America turned to Hamilton. "And why did you go?" She then held up a hand. "And please give me another reason rather than it you wanting to beat England to a bloody pulp."

He didn't answer.

So America turned back to her superior. "No offense General Hannah, but were you really trying to start another war with the world?"

Hannah looked up. "Maybe. Oh, and here's the video of the meeting." She handed America a small disc. "Apollo made it for me."

America sweat-dropped. "Um, thanks?"

Hannah grinned again. "No problem! That's what I'm here for!"

"Sure." America sighed to herself, wondering why the hell she even thought of letting her superior go to a meeting. Don't get her wrong, she loved the break she had, but still, General Hannah wasn't someone who was laid-back.

Things better not be at Hell when she returns. Though, that place was already Hell, so how could it get any worse?


	17. The Guilty and the Innocent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to add the Vietnam War to the Through My Eyes one-shots, so I'm going to put it right here.

They stared at one another, saying and doing nothing. There was no contempt in their eyes, but rather pity and traces of sorrow and exhaustion. Their bodies were weary, being covered with dirt and specks of blood here and there, and their clothes had seen better days as a result.

The both of them said nothing to each other for many long minutes, though they didn't need to. There was simply nothing they could say.

Though eventually Vietnam couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Why America? Why did you have to get involved? This had nothing to do with you!"

America's expression didn't change, though when she spoke up, Vietnam could tell the other woman was more tired than she looked. "Do you believe I wanted this Vietnam? That I wanted to send boys who were no more than eighteen out to a war that will scar them for the rest of their lives? Cause chaos in both of our worlds?"

"Well, no, but--"

"I don't expect you to believe a word I say Vietnam, because frankly none of us have the right to, and you know it."

"What?" Vietnam never thought her voice would sound so weak to her ears, much less around this woman. She didn't hate America, rather she feared her. The woman clearly couldn't care less about most of the nations, and Vietnam was pretty sure she was on that list, and the former had no problem in killing said nations if they proved to be a problem for her.

"You should know as well as I do Vietnam." America stood up at this point. "No matter how much we try to consult ourselves, nothing will change what we have done. I don't care how you use this information, but remember this: No one is innocent here, not you and certainly not me. Remember that."

America then walked away without waiting for a reply from the Asian woman. In fact, said nation tried to say something, but no sound would come out.

Still, Vietnam wanted to scream out to America that she was the innocent one here, and not her, but couldn't. Her heart was screaming for her to say those words, but her mind did otherwise, no matter how much it hurt.

In the Vietnam War, who exactly were the innocent and guilty people? She didn't know, but Vietnam at least knew the answer to one part of it.

She and America were not innocent in this, of that much America was certainly right about.


	18. Guns and Cannons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

There's another reason why Juliette Beilschmidt, also known as Pennsylvania, wears long dresses, and the reason is not something she can talk about without becoming fearful, paranoid, and depressed.

She also refused to have her sisters or her mother help her get dressed every day, always insisting she do it herself. For some reason the women of America's family, and even America herself, seemed to understand why and didn't push further, the males following their example shortly after. 

Whenever they were questioned, they would never answer, and the looks they would give the questioning person would demand them to not talk about it again.

Though, one day Juliette's father, Prussia, decided to ask his only daughter why she doesn't wear anything but dresses, completely ignoring America's warnings.

"Frau?" he asked.

Juliette glanced up from the paperwork she was doing. She smiled in greeting. "Ja Vati?"

"Do jou mind if I ask jou a question?" he asked.

"Not at all."

"Can jou tell me vhy jou always vear dresses? I've never seen jou vear anyzhing else since I have met you."

The response he got wasn't what he was expecting.

Juliette's red eyes—his eyes—suddenly went vacant, staring off into some distance. Her snow white skin somehow whitened even further too, and she began...trembling. It looked like she was becoming a corpse.

"Frau?" Prussia asked, concern written on his face.

A sound escaped Juliette, and it took Prussia a moment to realize it was a sob. Finally, just as she appeared on the verge of tears, she ran from the room, no one following her except her mother, and either out of shock or sadness, it depended on the person.

Prussia turned to Juliette's half-sisters, who were either staring at the door or the floor with sad expressions. "Can you please tell me vhat just happened?" he asked.

This was his daughter after all, and he wouldn't be able to help her if he didn't know what was wrong.

The girls stared at Prussia before looking away and not saying a word. Prussia was about to give up when one of them, Mississippi, spoke up. "Are you aware of the American Civil War?"

Prussia stared. Of course he remembered it, you'd have to be living under a rock to not know.

"Well, what about the battle of Gettysburg?"

Gettysburg? Prussia shook his head.

"It's one of the bloodiest battles during that time," Mississippi began, looking like she was regretting bringing the subject up. "The reason why no one says anything about it...is because it was in Pennsylvania."

Prussia lost all feeling in his body. His own daughter had to experience something like that? How could that be? She's too young!

"Julie still has the scars of the guns and cannons on her body, sometimes she has nightmares of the battle, men dying slowly and painfully, and just the pain she felt herself. My god, I never saw anything so horrific next to Mama being ripped in half."

The entire room went still.

"R-Ripped in two?" England choked.

Mississippi nodded grimly. "Because of the split, Mama was being ripped apart from the inside out, and there was nothing we could do but watch as she would scream in agony every hour of every day. Finally, when she did rip in two, all her organs and blood were visible for all to see. It even drenched some of us in her blood."

Mississippi was becoming disturbed, as her eyes were widening to impossible lengths and filling with tears, she began to sweat, and her whole body started to shake. Even her sisters were becoming just as disturbed.

"T-Then, she became two different people; women who were trying to kill each other. We couldn't go near them because, once, they tried to kill the little ones. Those things weren't our mother at all! And now, when Juliette lay in her own blood, writhing in just as much agony, I started...I started to...to...!"

"Courtney." At the sound of her human name, Mississippi looked at her father, Spain, who stared back at her with stern eyes. After that, Mississippi remained silent, refusing to say anything else. It was so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

Prussia took that as his cue to leave. He had to find his daughter.

~~~

Is it possible to be in so much pain that you can't feel yourself drowning in your own blood?

Apparently it's possible, just ask Juliette.

All Juliette could hear were gunshots, cannons, and the screams and moans of dying men, so loud you could probably mistake it for her being there. There in Gettysburg, one of the places where the bloodiest battles of the Civil War took place, and where thousands of men on both sides perished.

_Stop..._

The sounds of the guns and cannons were deafening, and even Juliette had to wonder why she could still hear. Maybe it would've been best if she did lose her hearing, because these sounds were horrible.

_Stop it..._

She didn't realize it, but tears were streaming down her bloody face, and she twitched and turned despite the protests of her rapidly bleeding body. Over her, many of her siblings tried to hold her down to keep her injuries from worsening to no avail.

_Nein! Stop zhis! I beg jou!_

No one was here to help Juliette. Her mother, torn in two and unable to save her daughter from her torment; her siblings, just as helpless; and her government, unresponsive.

**STOP IT!! IT HURTS, _STOP IT!!!!_**

After that, either from the loss of blood (all of which lay under her, staining her hair, clothing, the bed under her, and skin to its color), or from the pain and agony, Juliette went into a coma that would last until the war was over, a welcome relief to all the pain and visions assaulting her.

~~~

A knock came at the door, and Juliette knew that wasn't her mother, who left minutes ago. She remained silent, not wanting to see anyone else right now, but then her door opened, and someone walked in.

Shooting up from her bed, dressed only in a tank-top and kakis, Juliette's scars (all resembling a bullet wound or wounds caused by a cannon) were visible for all to see, and now this unknown person was in her room, seeing all of this.

Surprisingly, that unknown person was her father, who calmly watched her, not even saying a word.

Juliette turned away. "Don't look at me," she begged quietly. "Don't look at me."

It was silent for many moments, and Juliette thought her father had left, until she heard him ask, "Vhere does it hurt frau?"

Juliette stared at Prussia, who stared back with a patient silence. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised, as the man was known to be serious when the situation called for it. He was also known to never leave someone he cared about alone when they were hurting.

She didn't reply, and instead she lost control of her tears, which poured over without her consent. In response to this, Prussia sat on the bed beside his daughter and embraced her, allowing her to cry into his shirt.

All the while, he didn't say anything. He didn't need to.


	19. His American Wife (Beginning)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this idea that had been driving me crazy for a while, but basically I was thinking, "What if America was on better terms with the nations?" or "What if something came up where America would have to give herself up?" I then thought about a certain fanfic where a female America is arranged to marry Russia to better relations between their countries and help her economy, where she falls in love with Russia. So, I thought, why not? I really am in a mood fora little romance after all.

America stared at her boss, unsure if she heard correctly. She raised an eyebrow as she stared at the other man.

"Can you please repeat what you just said Mr. President?" she asked.

Her boss sighed, and suddenly he looked older than ever, and that was from how tired he looked altogether. Clearly he dreaded bringing this topic up before he even said anything, and only did so because it was important.

"I said we have a marriage alliance between you and one of the countries. And before you ask, I didn't agree to it for two reasons. One: I wanted to talk to you first and get your insight before I send my answer. And two: I don't know how this would benefit both of our countries."

America narrowed her eyes. "What is going on that one of the countries would sent a marriage alliance to me?"

"According to the message, their country wants to get rid of much of the tension that is going on between them and us, and even sees a military benefit from marrying you too. Of course, this is in the words of their boss, and I'm not sure if their country representative was involved in one way or another. They even presented benefits for our country."

"And those are?"

"Protection and support from the other nations, and they also feel that this could bring our cultures together."

America mentally rolled her eyes at the last one, and, clearly, her boss looked annoyed with it too, though he did a good job at concealing it.

"They also promised protection for the states in time of crisis," finished the man, and America pursed her lips.

"I'd like to speak with this country myself, and see if his words are indeed true. Who is he Mr. President?"

"It's..."


	20. His American Wife (Canada) (Part 1)

"Canada."

America hadn't realized her face went blank until her boss began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. She quickly composed herself, but still felt very suspicious on why Canada of all people wished to marry her. So she opened her mouth.

"What is going on in his country Mr. President?" she asked.

Her boss quickly composed himself when he answered.

"Their economy hasn't been doing very well lately, and it's causing the people to become restless. Of course, many Americans have seen this happening and were more than happy to accept new Canadian citizens to their towns and cities, but both I and Mr. Williams' boss fear that this will only make the problem worse if more Canadians move here. And...you can see what this resulted in."

America nodded. She too had noticed the growth of Canadian immigrants, and that too concerned her. But when she questioned Canada about it at a couple meetings, he wouldn't say anything to her. As a result, she became suspicious on what his motives were.

"But what does my marrying Canada have to do with helping his economy?" she asked. "I understand if it will stop the amount of Canadian immigrants flowing into America, but I fail to see why this would help Canada's economy."

The president sighed to himself. "Believe me America, I too am at a loss as to how this would help Canada's economy, but his boss looked so hopeful that I knew I needed to talk to you about it first. Oh, and I believe Canada himself is going to be heading over here to speak to you about this arrangement, and I suggest that you do before you give me your answer about this.

"I don't want to go into this without knowing what's really going on in Canada first, and I know you would be able to detect that easily. Can you do this America?"

America paused before she nodded. "Of course Mr. President. But is it alright if I ask you one more question?"

"What is it?"

"What time will Mr. Williams be arriving?"

America's boss looked down at a piece of paper nearby before he looked back up at her. "He should be arriving at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning. Do you want me to call the maids so they can prepare a room for him?"

America shook her head. "I can do it myself Mr. President, as the maids are on lunch break, but I thank you for the offer."

"Alright, you may leave now."

America bowed her head before she quietly left the room to get one of the guest rooms in the White House ready for her ex-brother to arrive. This would help to distract her from the news she heard, even though some maids were not on lunch break just yet.

She did not want to spend the rest of the day doing nothing, and she didn't have anything to do today, so this would be a welcome thing to do.

America just prayed that whatever Canada was going to say, it wasn't going to end poorly for the both of them.

~~~

The next day came without any other incident. Yay...

America had once more gotten up early and made sure everything was in order in Canada's assigned guest room before she had the maids bring in a breakfast full of fluffy pancakes with a side of maple syrup, as well as a side of bacon and some black coffee. Now, America was only doing this because she knew Canada enjoyed this food, and she wanted to make his short stay as comfy as possible.

What kind of hostess would she be if she didn't do that?

As expected, Canada's plane had landed at 8:30 a.m., and a limousine would be waiting for him when he walked out with his luggage. America would then meet him at the entrance of the White House, her boss having a meeting at this time so he wouldn't be able to greet Canada when he arrived.

It was precisely 9 o'clock when Canada arrived at the White House.

America was standing in the entrance, and as soon as she saw the limousine, she walked towards it, nodding to the driver in greeting and thanks before waiting for Canada to open the door.

She didn't wait long.

When he stepped out, the first thing America noticed was that he was wearing a business suit, complete with a neatly ironed shirt and pants, and even the polished black shoes. His hair was combed back, but America could still see his famous curl moving about. Other than that, he looked very professional, which America greatly appreciated since they were on business after all.

And it told her that he didn't forget that even her people, specifically of the businessmen and women, appreciate those who are professional in appearance and in personality.

America herself was wearing a black and white dress that hugged her figure very well, as well as black high heels and feminine white gloves. Her hair was a little more curly that normal, which, in her opinion anyway, made her look older, if not more professional.

She nodded her head in greeting. "Good morning Mr. Williams. I hope you had a pleasant flight?"

Canada jumped a little, but he quickly composed himself and nodded back. "Y-Yes, it went well. Good morning to you too Miss Jones."

Strange. That was the first time he called her Miss Jones, but America supposed that they were in public, and it was only natural to greet people like this.

"That's good to hear. Now, if you would follow me, I will escort you to your room."

America then led Canada into the building, and throughout the trip they didn't say another word to each other, but America wasn't expecting anything less. The hallways also were empty saving for the occasional maid or butler, who nodded their heads to America in greeting before continuing on with their duties. Eventually they came across Canada's guest room, which America was quick to unlock and usher her guest inside before following him.

After closing the door behind her, America spotted the breakfast entray that the maids had been requested to obtain. The pancakes were steaming, the maple syrup bottle sat on the table nearby, and there were two steaming cups of black coffee beside the plates. America could practically feel Canada's wide-eyed stare at the table easily.

She turned to him. "I hope you're hungry Mr. Williams," she began, walking towards the table. "And I hope you like black coffee."

"O-Oh, of course!" Canada was snapped from his stupor as he attempted to not rush towards the table and sit down, nor immediately dig into his meal as soon as he got there. America didn't pay attention to this as she added some maple syrup to her pancakes before slowly beginning to eat. Canada slowly did the same, though his lavender eyes were wide with astonishment all the while.

America just brushed it off as she got down to business.

"Mr. Williams," she began slowly, "I am sure that you've been told of the reason why you came here, correct?"

Canada paused, and he gulped before he spoke up. "Yes," he answered. "As you may have heard, my economy is not doing very well, and many of my citizens are leaving for your country for a better life." He sounded angry as he said this, but then his eyes widened and he shook his head to clear it. "America, I know this may sound absurd, but my boss and I believe that a union between our countries can help with our economy, and even unite our people together."

America had to resist the urge to raise an eyebrow together. Her coworker almost sounded like they were back in history, and that the people from their countries were completely different people.

Well, she shouldn't have expected anything less from someone who was the favorite of the nations.

"And what are you offering in return through this marriage?" asked America.

Canada paused. "I can offer you protection from the other nations, as well as a combined military force that can learn and benefit from each other," he explained. "And when this marriage is completed, our combined powers will make us both the world superpower, and we can help each other, whether in economy, with the military, and anything else."

America took a sip of her black coffee as she thought over Canada's words. Protection from the other nations, a better military, and even a better economy sounded very appealing, but...

"How do I know that you're telling the truth?"

"Huh?" Canada looked at her, baffled. Then he realized what she was saying. "A-America, I'm not lying about this!"

Huh, what a way to try to be convincing.

"Don't misunderstand me Mr. Williams," America started calmly. "I understand that you wish to help your people and your country before things could get worse, but how can I trust you to not have something else planned for me, much less my own country, as soon as we are wed?"

Canada looked shocked, a horrified kind of shock that told America that the worry she had in mind had not come to his own. That was enough of an answer, and she quickly but elegantly finished the rest of her pancakes and black coffee before she stood up.

"From your claims, I cannot think of a reason to refuse your proposal, but be warned that I will keep a very close eye on you." America's entire form took on a threatening vibe when she glared at the man who claimed he was her brother, her Honan. "If you make one wrong move against me, my people, or worse, my children, I will declare war on you, and I will make sure that you will cease to exist when I'm done with you. Am I clear?"

A terrified expression appearing on his face, Canada vigorously nodded, and America relaxed her aura before she nodded to him in departure.

"Keep that in mind, and be sure to finish your breakfast. I will not marry a man who is wasteful."

"Wait, America--" But America walked out the door before Canada could finish whatever it was he was going to say.

She better not regret this decision later.

~~~

"WHAT?!"

Canada flinched, unused to being the one under so much scrutiny and horror, and while no one was mistaking him for America. As for America, she remained stoic, unaffected by the shouts, though she did raise an eyebrow at their behavior.

"Is something the matter gentlemen?" she asked.

England stood up from his chair, looking as furious as a bull when America asked that question. "Is something the matter?!" he repeated angrily. "That something is that you're marrying your own brother America! You cannot marry your brother, no matter how poor the situation is!"

America raised an eyebrow. "And I'm sorry to say Mr. Kirkland that it's already been made official that Mr. Williams and I are to be married at the end of the year. If you have a problem with this, take it to my boss or Canada's, though I'm sure that you know how that will turn out, do you?"

"But--"

""But" nothing," America interrupted. "This conversation is over Mr. Kirkland, and if I were you I'd save my voice for something else, because you still have a presentation to do, and it would be a shame if your voice had to crack somewhere in between it."

England's face burst into color, but he said nothing else as he sat back down. France, who happened to be sitting next to England, didn't have the courage to laugh at the other nation being talked down to again, and he looked disheartened for some reason.

But America shrugged. It wasn't like it was any of her concern.

"Anymore questions?" she asked, looking around the room. When no one moved, she nodded and moved to sit down, not checking to see if Canada was following her lead. She didn't care what he did as long as he didn't make himself look like an idiot.

But she didn't care about that either.

She was only going along with this marriage because her country would likely need it in the near future, and she could better protect her children this way.

That meant that if Canada even touched one hair on any of their heads, she wouldn't hesitate to nuke his country to oblivion, consequences be damned. No one, especially the countries, would harm her children while she was still alive and breathing.

She would rather die than let that happen to them.


	21. His American Wife (Canada) (Part 2)

"Mother?"

America looked up from her paperwork, seeing Utah walking into the room. It almost hurt to look at her daughter, who looked so much like her father, and yet acted nothing like him. Her long wheat hair was loose, causing it to cascade down her back in waves, her lavender eyes were dull with worry and disgust, and she was wearing a long sleeved dress, something she rarely did when it was summer.

But that wasn't what hurt America so.

She knew Utah was not in the best of moods as soon as she walked through that door. It wasn't a secret to anyone that Utah disliked her father with a passion, despite never actually admitting it. She hated how her father treated her mother, even before knowing that she was actually his sister, and it was so bad that she refused to refer to Canada as her father.

America wanted to hate Canada all over again, because now her children were wishing that he died a long time ago, something that she prayed they would never do. But all she felt at the moment was pity for the man who killed Honan.

"What is it dear?" she asked, watching as Utah closed the office door behind her and walked further into the room. "Are you okay?"

Utah smiled sadly. "I should be asking you that Mother. How are you holding up, with this whole...arranged marriage thing?"

America's frown deepened. She couldn't lie to Utah, for Utah would be able to tell no matter how well she performed, and would be displeased no matter the situation. So, sighing to herself, she answered.

"I suppose I could be better," she admitted, "but at the moment I'm not."

Utah stayed silent as her mother continued.

"I know that we can benefit from this marriage, but I fear of what he will do before and even after we are wed. I know he still holds that pitiful and redundant grudge against me, and I worry that he will attempt to do something to one or all of you if I'm not looking."

"Mother..." Utah took a deep breath. "You really worry too much about us. You know we can look after one another and ourselves. You made sure of that when you trained us."

America slumped. "I know that dear, but I'm your mother. It's only natural that I worry about my children before myself."

"Mother..."

"I know Utah, it's pathetic of me, isn't it? Canada will surely have no problem with pointing that out if he so wished. He never had a problem pointing out my supposed weaknesses whenever he had the chance, and I have no doubt that he will attempt to do something to one of my own children just to get back at me. After all, he and England had done so to Daniel, Mary, and Bernard, so what's to say he won't do it again?"

Utah said nothing, but now there was this angry look to her eye as she remembered the War of 1812. America recognized that look, and suddenly pitied Canada all over again. Her children will never forgive him or England for hurting Daniel, Mary, and Bernard that day, and, frankly, she never will either. It was bad enough that they stabbed her in the back so many times, but to go as far as to harm her children?

America will never forgive them for that. Everyone knew that, and so did Canada and England. Bernard, Daniel, and Mary made sure of that, whether intentional or not.

Then Utah stood up and walked over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and resting her cheek against America's. America finally went limp in her daughter's hold as she wrapped her own arms around her waist. Neither said anything as they just held each other, one comforting the other, and one taking whatever comfort the other had to offer.

America wanted to laugh at herself. What did she do to deserve these children?

Pulling away, she smiled at her daughter. "Thank you Utah," she whispered.

Utah smiled back. "It's no problem Mother. Are you feeling better now?"

America nodded. "Much better." She wasn't lying, though she did have the feeling that she was going to have a migraine for the rest of the day.

The sound of clashing pots and pans echoed throughout the house, and there was even a "You little brat!" coming from Minnesota and a laugh coming from Nevada. America sighed.

She just had to jinx herself didn't she?

Utah winced before she headed to the door, likely to get Zayn and Bryce under control, but she turned back to her mother. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

America nodded. "I am sweetheart. Now, can you help your brothers? I don't want any of them to destroy each other or the house."

Utah winced, and then a smirk appeared on her face. "Consider it done Mother," she said before walking out the door and closing it behind her. It wasn't too long after that that America heard Nevada and Minnesota crying out in pain and pleading with Utah for mercy as she likely dragged them somewhere to give them a piece of her mind.

America smirked herself when a new thought came to mind. If Canada didn't understand the craziness that her children are known to get themselves into from time to time, then she wasn't going to help him when those times occurred.

But first things first, time to get things ready for when Canada arrives. Their wedding was going to be here in America, much to America's relief, and thanks to that, America wouldn't be expected to change her wedding tradition in any way when the day arrived. That left one thing to not worry about.

Now, the only thing left to do was prepare for Canada's arrival, and hopefully some of her children did not think of pranking the man as soon as he walked through that door.

Yeah, she could only hope.

~~~

The day Canada was scheduled to arrive at the mansion was a little unpleasant to say the least. America's children were not exactly happy about having to share their home with someone they disliked greatly, even though the majority of them were doing a better job at concealing it.

To relax themselves, many took to cleaning the mansion once again even though they had done that only the night before, though many busied themselves with their normal tasks when at the mansion (It was Christmas, so the states were allowed to stay with their mother during the break) or just doing physical activities that they enjoyed.

For example, Wyoming was outside, running with Astrid and Buddy by his side, while Colorado, Montana, California, and Alaska were on the ice, ice-skating, thankfully making sure that the ice was thick enough before proceeding. Rhode Island was also on the ice, fishing, with Connecticut and New Hampshire beside him, though the latter was making art out of the snow, occasionally flicking some of it at her triplet siblings, once more earning the ire of Connecticut.

Oklahoma was just shoveling some of the snow with Texas and Michigan, and they too would throw some snowballs at each other for the fun of it, laughing and cursing at each other all the while.

Pennsylvania was in the living room by the fireplace, sewing with Louisiana and Arkansas, Vermont, North and South Carolina, and Washington D.C. were reading quietly in the corner, and Maine was listening to a calming Christmas melody on one of the couches.

In the kitchen, Utah, New Jersey, North and South Dakota, Kansas, and Nebraska were cooking dinner, having nothing better to do. America's other children were spending time in their rooms, likely preparing for what was to come, and America couldn't blame them.

She too was not looking forward to this, but the least they could do was make the best of it.

Then, America spotted a car pulling up their driveway, and she recognized it anywhere.

She went outside. "Children, come on inside, he's here!" she called.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, and they were quick to gather up their stuff, get off the ice, and hurry on inside, where the others were in the process of cleaning up after themselves or were hurrying to alert their other siblings. While this was happening, America went back outside to wait for Canada, who was now in the process of getting his luggage out of the back.

He looked up at her, and smiled politely but nervously. "Hello America," he greeted.

"Hello Canada," America greeted back, walking over to him. "Do you need any help?"

"Oh no, I've got it." Canada then closed the door before grabbing his luggage once more, soon after following America into the house.

"You'll have to excuse my children," America said. "They're kind of busy at the moment, so they won't be able to greet you as soon as we head in."

"That's fine," Canada replied, surprisingly sounding very patient. "I'm not expecting to greet them all right away."

America didn't reply to that, nor did she show how grateful she was.

She only hoped that he would keep that promise when they get in and she shows him to his room.

When they got inside, most of her children weren't present, though those who were greeted America and Canada.

"Hello Mr. Canada," greeted Hawaii and Alaska, and the latter looked ready to sneer at Canada, if not for the fact that her mother was watching her very closely. It was at that moment that Missouri arrived, placing hands on his youngest half-sisters' shoulders and smiling patiently at Canada.

"Hallo, Mr. Canada," he greeted. "Ve hope jou had a good trip?"

"I did. Thank you," replied Canada.

Missouri smiled before he led Hawaii and Alaska away, the girls not looking back at their uncle. America resisted the urge to sigh, which was a chore in itself, before she turned to Canada.

"Follow me," she ordered, before walking down the hallway and towards the nearest stairs. Canada followed her without another word, and the only sounds that were heard throughout the mansion were their footsteps. America didn't find this strange, as the mansion was quite soundproof in some places, the second floor being one of them.

Canada, however, looked a little uneasy when she glanced back at him one time. America didn't see the need to comfort him, especially when they finally arrived at his room.

"We're here," she announced, taking a key and unlocking the door. After the lock was turned, she handed the key to Canada before she opened the door.

The guest room that Canada was going to be staying in was exactly like his room back at his home, with the homey appeal, the simple decorations, and even to the kinds of books that he liked. Canada eyed the room with shock, clearly not expecting the fact that America knew him and he didn't know her. America paid no attention to this as she moved to leave the room.

"The key is yours now Mr. Williams, for this is your room now. Make sure you don't lose it. Also, starting tomorrow, you are going to have to help me with the wedding preparations and what we need and don't need. For now, get some rest, dinner will be ready soon, and I'll come back to inform you of when it's time, alright?"

Canada slowly nodded. "Alright."

With a final nod, America closed the door and walked down the hall, knowing her children would've already had the table prepared for them. Suddenly she sighed in weariness, for tonight's dinner was sure to be tense with Canada around.

She shrugged. Oh well, they were just going to have to deal with it whether they liked it or not, and hopefully Bernard won't attack Canada during dinner and Alaska wouldn't have put something harmful in his food.

Just what was she going to do with them?


	22. His American Wife (Canada) (Part 3)

Months passed, and America had to admit that having Canada staying in her family mansion and even her own home was to say the least...pleasant.

It turns out that her worries were for naught, for Canada was very respectful to America's children, and even kept a respectful distance when the latter weren't in the mood to speak to him. He was also understanding that Utah wasn't fond of him and it was going to take her a long time for her to open up to him on friendly terms.

But just the fact that she was attempting to tolerate him was progress, according to Canada anyway.

Not only that, but not once did Canada send any condescending messages to America, and at first America had been suspicious of his motives, and she still is now that the wedding date was arriving, but he actually seemed genuine whenever they spoke to each other and discussed the wedding plans. America almost dared to believe that this person was Honan.

But she knew that wasn't true. Honan was dead, and the man that she was arranged to marry made sure of that.

As for the wedding plans, it was agreed that it was to be a small affair, with their bosses, their families, and some close friends attending. The nations were allowed to come, but neither America nor Canada wanted them along for obvious reasons. As for the location, Canada had suggested a nearby beach, specifically one that was rarely used by the public.

Seeing his reasoning, America agreed, and they soon came to the conclusion that they will pay for the wedding themselves, which wasn't going to be a problem at all thanks to the amount of money they have each. Although they wanted things to be simple and not very expensive, it was still a good idea to make sure you have a lot of money for these kinds of things.

Especially when some of your children don't wish to attend.

"Are you sure?" America had asked her children during dinner once. It was nearing Christmas, so they all were still here, spending time with her. Canada was also in the room, but stayed quiet throughout the whole thing, likely because this was between America and her states.

None of the states answered at first, but then Virginia spoke up. "You said you didn't wish for many guests to be present Mother, and not only that, but many of us are going to be busy during that time, and it requires our full attention, especially with all that's been happening lately, so we won't be able to attend."

Normally family members would be angry with this revelation, but not America. She knew what else her eldest daughter was implying as well: They didn't want to see their mother marrying a man they severely disliked, and they surely hated the fact that she was going to have to spend the rest of her existence with him of all people.

America sure didn't want her children to feel uncomfortable at a wedding of all things, and she knew that they had things that required their attention back in their states, so she understood.

"I see," was all she said, and she quickly gave her children a comforting smile before she returned to her meal, the states not too far behind her, thankful looks on their faces. All the while, Canada said nothing, and the rest of the night was filled with comfortable silence.

Now, the wedding day was arriving, and America was preparing her wedding dress for tomorrow. It was a beautiful dress, with its simple appearance, the slight trail, and the beautiful star-like necklace that came with it. On her nightstand, there was silver leaf hairpin that would be put in her hair to go along with the dress, and the bouquet she would have was going to be given to her tomorrow at the wedding.

She suddenly wondered what the flowers would be. Definitely not roses that was for sure.

Suddenly there was a knock at her door, and America flinched, almost dropping the gown in the process. Quickly composing herself, she called, "Who is it?"

"It's me." Oh, it was Canada. What was he doing here? "Can I come in?"

Setting down the dress, America hurried to the door and unlocked it, allowing Canada to walk inside. As soon as he was in, he looked surprised, and America had a good idea as to why.

Her room was simple in design, though the bed was large enough to fit about two or three people, the colors on the wall, sheets, and carpet were comforting to the eyes, and there was a large bookshelf that contained a wide variety of books, a work desk that was neatly arranged, and a closet that contained lots of professional and beautiful outfits, as well as shoes, pants, and skirts.

"Are you alright?" America then asked, startling Canada. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he looked at her.

"I-I'm fine," he was quick to say. "I just came here to see..." He gulped. "If you needed help with anything."

America stared at him, caught off guard. It took her a moment longer to respond. "I don't...think so," she answered. "But...thank you though."

Canada nodded mutely, but it was clear that he wasn't done. So, America stood there, waiting for the nation to speak up, and when he did, his voice was full of sadness and regret.

"America." He exhaled deeply. "I just wanted to say...that I'm sorry."

America said nothing, instead waiting for him to continue.

"I know you aren't looking forward to this marriage, because of me," Canada continued somberly. "And I understand that you don't trust me being here at all, hence why you threatened me back there. But...I can't blame you for it. I understand that you may never love me, not after all that I have done to you and your family."

America still said nothing.

"I just want you to know..." Canada paused again. "You don't need to be afraid of me, but I understand if you will never come to love me through this marriage, or hell, if we never see each other much after this. Just remember that I will never hurt you or your children ever again, not even if it kills me."

America was fully facing him now, and her expression was tight when she regarded him. "And how do I know that you won't go back on that promise?"

Canada smiled sadly. "I don't, but you have my word about me trying my best. That's why that if I go against my word in any way, you're more than welcome to kill me."

America's eyes narrowed with surprise, and she searched for any trace of treachery behind Canada's gaze, but found none. He was completely sincere in his proposal, and America wasn't sure if she was surprised, nervous, or maybe both of them all at once.

"I see," she said. "Let's hope that you keep that promise of yours Mr. Williams, so it doesn't have to come to that."

Canada nodded. "I will. Goodnight America."

"Goodnight."

When Canada left, America suddenly wondered what tomorrow and the future with Canada was going to be like.

She better not regret this later.

~~~

It was time.

America was being helped into her dress by a young woman who she only knew was named Ginny. Ginny was making sure that the dress was in perfect condition, helped America to put on the necklace, and even brushed and braided her hair before putting the hairpin inside of it. After that, she handed America a bouquet of white lilies and daisies, which gave off a very comforting floral scent.

"Thank you," America whispered, smiling at the woman.

Ginny nodded. "It was my pleasure Miss." She then gently pushed America towards the direction of the wedding. "Now, go get him Miss."

America tried not to give Ginny a weak smile as she began to walk towards the location of the wedding, nervous beyond belief. She never expected the days to fly by so quickly, and now here she was, about to get married to someone she doesn't love in any way, shape, or form. She prayed once more that she was making the right decision, that she wasn't signing the death warrant of her country or her children.

Then America heard the music of the wedding, as well as people standing up from their chairs, and she looked up to find that she had arrived, and she was looking straight at her soon-to-be husband, Matthew Williams, who stood at the altar with a priest. America paused where she stood, caught off guard at what she saw.

She barely recognized Canada, with the wedding suit he was wearing, the way his hair was combed and slicked back, and how he wasn't wearing his glasses. All in all, he didn't look like Matthew Williams, the personification of Canada, at all.

He looked like another man, someone she could see as a friend and maybe a husband, but America knew that this was Canada, the man who stabbed her in the back so many times in the past and succeeded, the man who killed her brother, and the man who gleefully harmed her children, two of whom were barely five years of age in body.

And this was someone she was supposed to marry to better things between them.

America forced down the feeling of helplessness as she began to walk down to the altar, once more praying that she was not making a fatal mistake, that she was making the right decision, and that this man that would become her husband wouldn't do anything to make her regret this marriage. So, pasting a fake smile on her face, America continued to walk down the aisle, trying to not to express her displeasure at the situation.

Before she knew it, she was by Canada's side, facing the priest, who began to speak after the guests went back to sitting down.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to..." His words trailed off as America lost herself in her thoughts again, against her will. She remembered all the times she thought Matthew was Honan, and she also thought to when he proved otherwise. By now it was a struggle to keep the smile on her face as she thought about all the pain he put her and her children through, often with a smile on his face.

Oh why did she agree to this?

"Matthew Williams, do you take Emily F. Jones as your wife?" the priest's words cut through her thoughts, and America had to keep herself from spinning towards Canada or even flinching, though her smile turned strained for a split second.

But if Canada noticed, he ignored it. "I do," he replied.

The priest turned to America. "And do you, Emily F. Jones, take Matthew Williams as your husband?"

Come on America, just say it. Just say it.

_Just say it!_

"I do."

It was almost like this wasn't her body anymore when she said those words, and all she felt was worry and regret, even though she knew she wasn't outwardly showing it. She had just sealed the contract, which now made her the wife of this man, well, except for...

"You may now kiss the bride."

Please, let this day be over already...

America barely felt Canada's lips connect to her own, sealing their pact, and she barely heard the clapping of the wedding guests behind her. She just focused on creating the perfect acting scene, one where no one actually knew what she was feeling inside.

She is now married to Canada, one of the men who hurt her and her children.

This better not end in disaster.


	23. His American Wife (Canada) (Part 4)

It had been hard, their wedding night, and it had been hard for America to imagine Canada as either of the two men she truly loved.

Canada would never be them. His touch was too different, too rough, too hesitant, too...different. She knew that Canada didn't know what he was doing, despite being experienced in this kind of thing, and America suddenly wanted to laugh.

She really was pathetic wasn't she?

But it was done. She is now the wife of Canada's personification, Matthew Williams, which made him the stepfather of her children (not counting Utah of course). She now was going to have to spend the rest of her existence with him, likely without love in the mix, and wondered how_ they_ would react to this change.

She knew that no matter how long this marriage went on, she would never love Canada, and he may never love her. They were only in this for political and economic benefits, and love would only be a bonus if they were lucky and willing to go that far.

But America wasn't sure if she wanted to love him. After all, who would love someone who happily hurt them so many times to the point of no forgiveness? Who happily harmed their own children?

America had said before that she has no intention of forgiving Canada for that, especially for the murder of her brother, but she had to try, not only for her children, but for her people and country.

She did not agree to marry him for nothing, and she was damn well going to make this work, if only for a little while.

~~~

"You're unhappy."

It's been a few months since their marriage, and America and Canada have just returned home from a meeting, which was where they discussed the benefits and the results of their marriage. So far, things were going smoothly, Canada's economy was doing much better, people were moving back to Canada as a result, and tourism was increasing even though that hadn't been part of the deal.

However, there were some minor hiccups. Some Americans didn't understand why the United States had to unite with Canada to help with the economy problem when they could've helped them themselves, though others were saying that the Canadians should've fixed the problem themselves, telling the former who argued against uniting with Canada that they were asking for America's economy to plummet.

Of course, America understood their concerns, but their arguments were easily shut down by the combined governments after a logical explanation that carefully hid the fact that their countries' personifications married.

Sneaky men, their bosses. America wouldn't have it any other way.

Tiredly, she looked at her husband. They both were sitting on their now shared bed, and America had just gotten dressed into her nightgown. It was one of those nightgowns that she kept from historical times, and it was given to her by Louisiana and Arkansas as a gift for her birthday. Of course, those two continued to design outfits and nightwear for their family, but this one had a special place in her heart.

This was the first nightgown that the brother and sister duo ever made for her, and she kept it well taken care of after all these years.

"What makes you say that?" she asked blankly, staring into Canada's also blank face.

He said nothing for a moment. "Don't lie to me America, it's not hard to see that you're unhappy with having to marry me."

Damn that man for being observant.

America mutely sighed before turning away. "I would ask how you knew, but that would be asking a rhetorical question," she commented.

Canada said nothing.

"You understand though, don't you?" America asked.

Canada nodded. "I do. And like I've said before, I understand if you wish for me to be estranged from you, if you never come to love me, or any of that. I know that I screwed up time and time again whenever you were concerned, and words can't describe how sorry I am. I will take whatever punishment that you see fit, and I will follow it, even if it kills me. This I can promise you."

America stared at the man who killed Honan, finding the resemblance between the two of them, and not just in appearance. She could see the same willingness to help others, no matter the consequences, and she could even see the willingness to suffer for the sake of other people.

Too much like Honan. She wasn't sure why that hurt more than the fact that this man had killed him.

"But what do you want?" she asked tiredly. "What do you want from me Matthew Williams?"

Canada blinked, a confused expression appearing on his face. "What do you mean?"

"What do you really want from me Mr. Williams?" she asked. "Are you asking for my love, my acceptance? Or do you have something else in mind, something that should concern me?"

Canada's frown returned, and he looked down at the bedroom carpet in thought. America watched him the whole time, watching as an inner conflict passed through his face for a couple minutes as he remained silent and tried to find the right answer.

But America wasn't sure if there was even a right answer for this, no matter how much she wanted there to be.

Then Canada returned his attention to her, his gaze full of determination and resignation at the same time. "I want you to love me America, to accept me, and to respect me," he answered honestly. "Do you know why I even agreed to this marriage in the first place? It wasn't just to help my economy and my people, but because I love you, more than a sister in fact.

"I know, I'm not your Honan, and I never have been since the day we were taken in by England and France, and I have done things that no brother should do to his sibling, no matter the situation. I've hurt you so many times Migisi, and I never noticed until the day you revealed your true self to us. I also have to live with the fact that I never knew that I had a child with you until later on, and that I hurt my own nieces and nephews without my knowing.

"This may seem like empty words to you Migisi, and I won't blame you if you don't take them into consideration or believe any of it, but at least give me a chance to make things right, if only by a little bit. That's all I ask, please."

Canada actually looked so broken, so desperate, that America immediately thought back to Honan once more.

Her second older brother, who kept her company during the early years of her life, who protected her from the other children and sometimes adults, and who loved and cared about her, despite their mother keeping it a secret that she was a girl all along.

The brother whose body had been taken over by another, a man named Matthew Williams.

America stared at that very man, seeing as his face didn't change. Sighing mutely, she prayed to Mother Gaia for strength before she moved over to Canada.

He watched her every move, confused, until she leaned over and gave his forehead a kiss. It was quick, and she pulled back before Canada even realized what had happened, but its impact stayed behind.

Her neighbor's eyes were wide, so much so that it was a miracle that the balls remained intact inside the sockets. He said nothing for many moments, nor did he move, but then his cheeks turned red, almost rivaling France's prized wine. America almost giggled, but it told her something.

This man hadn't been lying at all. He was more than willing to do whatever she wished to atone for his sins, and it didn't matter what it was.

Had this been in the past, America would've considered forcing him into a fire, watching as he burned, just like she, Daniel, and Mary had, and laugh at his screams of agony, just as he did with her. But she didn't want to punish him.

No, it was too late for that.

So, looking at him right in the eye, she spoke.

"Alright, I believe you," she began. "However, don't expect me to make this easy for you Matthew. You have hurt me and my family too much for me to trust you, but I'm willing to give you a chance. But only one, and that's it. If you mess up in any way, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

Unsurprised at the threat, Canada kept his composed but determined expression on as he nodded.

"Yes," he answered. "I understand perfectly. And I promise that I won't let you down, ever again."

America smiled. A real smile, not a fake one. "I'll hold you up to it, Matthew Williams."

And somehow, she had a feeling that Canada would stay true to his word, no matter what came down.

_You better make me proud Matthew Williams,_ she thought, looking out to the sky and towards the horizon. _Show me how well you can be Honan, and how much you can love me and my children._

_If you do that, I won't regret this marriage, not one bit. That much I can promise you. Just don't screw it up._


	24. His American Wife (China) (Part 1)

"China."

America was sure her face blanked out in response to her mind, and all it took was her boss shifting uncomfortably in his seat for her to return to reality.

"Excuse me sir?" she asked.

Her boss winced in sympathy. "China is the one who requested this alliance."

America was suddenly tempted to jump out the nearest window after hearing those words, but composed herself.

"Did he say as to why he wanted this alliance?" she asked.

"You remember how his country is overpopulated at this time?" Upon America's nod, the President continued. "Well, thanks to the overpopulation, there is a wide range of pollution and the economy is failing. Not to mention so many people are without jobs, and are growing restless as a result."

"But how does he expect us to help him?"

"You know the one child policy? Although it's helping a lot, it's still going to be decades before the overpopulation dwindles and the pollution is under control. However, neither the people or China are willing to wait that long to fix them, and by agreeing with an alliance with the United States of America, their number one trade partner nonetheless, the people can move here while also using our resources to take care of the pollution and those affected by the overpopulation."

America frowned in thought. Her boss did have a point, and even though she still winces at the problems going on in China, that left her with one concern.

"Forgive me Mr. President, but are you sure China couldn't just agree to make an alliance with other powerful countries? Like, Russia? As far as I can tell, Russia has plenty of resources as well, not to mention it's closer."

Her boss eyed her in silence for a moment before he placed his chin on his fingers. "Do you want my personal opinion?" Upon America's nod, he continued. "I think since Mr. Braginski and Mr. Wang have a...strange relationship to say the least, Mr. Wang wanted to go with someone he doesn't fear, at least not to extent he fears Russia. Of course, I don't have a doubt that China is afraid of you. Then, in return for this alliance, China is promising protection, an ally, and even the opening of a better future for our generation, which I can't deny the results to."

America shrugged. "But that presents another concern."

"Hm?"

"Even before he discovered I was a woman, China was disrespectful and cruel to me for all his talk of being mature. I doubt that he came up with this himself, and he is going with this against his will. Not only that, but from his own relationship with Japan, he is not very good with treating others the way they want to be treated."

The President made a thoughtful noise to himself. "You're worried that he's going to poise some threat to your children," he added.

America nodded, and the President closed his eyes.

"Believe me America, I don't trust China's personification either, for it's true, he is far older than you and has seen more conflict than anyone could ever hope to witness, and that alone makes him a threat. However, I cannot deny the results this marriage may have on both of our countries, no matter how rocky the road may be."

"So you agree to this?"

"In a way, but I wish to know how you see this."

America went silent at that. She knew she couldn't deny the results, but it was like her boss said; she didn't trust the older nation, especially not around her children. Of course, she knew her children could handle themselves, something that she made sure of, but it was still hard not to feel scared for them. After all, China was one of the various nations who, if they knew of the states' existence in the past, would've attempted to conquer them, and America had no doubt that China would've treated her children cruelly.

After all, a man who had seen and participated in thousands of wars and inner conflicts was bound to become greedy, hateful, and bloodthirsty in the end. It was something that Japan learned while he was in China's care.

Mentally, America took the biggest breath of her life and looked back at her boss. "I'll give this some thought, but first I would like to speak to Mr. Wang first before I make my decision."

Her boss nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you. Will that be all?"

"Yes, you can go now."

As America left the room, allowing her boss to call China and discuss arrangements, America suddenly wondered if she was about to sign her own death warrant. Of course, she hasn't agreed yet, as she needed to speak with China first, and she hoped that he would be as mature as he said he was about all this.

With that in mind, America went to prepare one of the many guest rooms to take her mind off things.

~~~

The next day, America was standing at the entrance to the White House, dressed in an elegant white dress and heels. She also wore white frilly gloves and a pearl necklace to match the outfit, though she hadn't been in the mood for anything fancy today, especially with what she hoped wouldn't traspire.

All in all, America was waiting for China to arrive so they could discuss the recent proposal, and also so America could scan for any signs of foul play. This was China they were talking about after all.

Eventually, at around nine o'clock, America spotted a limoscene heading towards the gates, which opened to allow them access. Then the vehicle stopped next to her, the passenger door opening. And out stepped a man in a fancy black suit, pants, and shoes, shoulder-length hair held back in a ponytail, and Asian features. America almost wanted to snort at how different China looked when he wore a suit, but she held it back.

"Good morning Mr. Wang," she greeted, just as the driver of the limo moved to get China's belongings out from the back.

China nodded. "Good morning America," he greeted back, voice carefully void of emotion. He was uncomfortable America realized, but paid no mind to it as she spoke again.

"I have prepared a room for you if you will come with me, the maids will retrieve your things shortly."

China nodded as he followed America into the White House.

As they walked towards the room, America spoke up once more. "There's also something I would like to discuss with you while we're there, and breakfast is being served, just in case you didn't have anything this morning."

"Anything's better than cheap airport food aru," China mumbled.

America had to keep herself from snorting when she heard that.

Eventually they arrived to the guest room, which America unlocked and opened, allowing China inside first. As she closed the door behind them, she was aware that he was eyeing the room with astonishment, as the room looked similar to his own room back in his country, saving for the more Western appeal, ranging from the red wallpaper to the silverware on the nearby table. America, walking past China, sat down at her spot at the table, pouring herself from hot black coffee before looking at China.

"Come, come," she urged. "The food is going to get cold."

That snapped China out of his stupor, and he sat across from America, eyeing the food. The food arranged from bowls of rice to steamed buns in soup. There were also two different pitchers, one that was full of the black coffee and the other that was full of China's favorite tea. America snapped apart her chopsticks before looking to China.

"Enjoy your meal," she said.

China flinched before slowly breaking apart his own chopsticks. "D-Dui, enjoy your meal aru."

They ate in silence for a few minutes, with America inwardly smiling at her maids performing an excellent job on the food once again. Then, after taking another sip of her coffee, she looked at China.

"Now," she began, startling China from whatever thoughts he had been to, "is it correct that you wanted me to marry you Mr. Wang?"

After recovering himself, China nodded. "Yes, I am sure your president has told you everything, but I will say that I want to fix my overpopulation and pollution problems quickly so my people can obtain jobs, feed their families, and not have to worry about getting sick from the pollution, and I know it's something you can help me with."

"Pardon me Mr. Wang, but how do you expect me to help you?" asked America.

"You have lots of resources, and enough land to help house thousands of my people. Of course, your population has been low as of late, and that will help my people find jobs and their own homes should they decide to move here. That will also help feed those who can't help themselves, and create a new hope for our generations aru."

"What do you mean by that?"

China looked irritated that she questioned him. "I mean that we can improve each other, either it be in ways of living to our education systems, we can learn a lot from each other that can create a better future for both of our nations."

"And that's what you're offering me in return for this marriage?"

China grumbled as he nodded. "Dui."

America eyed the older nation for many moments, enough to make said nation uncomfortable, before she sighed and closed her eyes in thought. "I have one more question for you Mr. Wang; How do I know that you aren't using this as an excuse to bring harm upon my people or my family?"

China jumped in surprise, staring at America with offended shock. "W-What do you mean by that aru?"

Oh great. "Do you pose a threat to my family or my people?"

China, in his stupor, didn't respond at first, but that gave America time to see no actual threat to her country. After taking another sip of her coffee, she spoke up again.

"I see. You really don't." She sighed. "Alright, since you are making some good points about me marrying you, I will accept, but..." She glared at him murderously, "if you pose even the slightest threat to my people or, god forbid, my family, I will destroy you, and I don't care if this starts World War III, do you understand?"

China didn't answer.

America's eyes turned red. "Do. You. Understand. Mr. Wang?" she repeated.

China flinched at the sight of her eyes. "D-Dui, I understand."

America relaxed her glare, her eyes returning to their sapphire hues. "Good, now finish your breakfast. I will not marry a man who wastes good food."

~~~

It was silent in the meeting room, and America would've been surprised if she even cared.

She had just told the whole world that she was to marry China, and just like that, they all froze where they were, almost looking like real-life statues. Still, after a few moments of silence, America continued.

"Is there any questions?" she asked.

No one answered at first, but then Japan raised his hands. "Ano...are you sure this is a wise course of action Amerika-san?"

America wanted to say no, but instead she said, "That depends on what happens afterwards."

Then France moved to raise his hand, but quickly put it back down after seeing America's look. Either way, almost all the nations looked dejected for some reason or another, but America didn't care to find out at this time.

"Now, let's proceed with this meeting shall we?"

As everyone moved to do exactly that, America prayed that she didn't just sign something that could get her killed.

Or, worse yet, her country and family.


	25. His American Wife (China) (Part 2)

The waves crashed into the shore in a calming yet powerful rhythm, turning the sand a light brown that mixed with its drier, more golden counterpart nearby. The ocean itself continued into the horizon, its dark blue color contrasting with the sky's lighter tone. It was a beautiful sight, one that America desperately needed right now.

She was in Hawaii, where it had been decided she and China would be wed, and right now she was taking some time off at an unused part of the beach, listening to the waves and light breeze over the sounds of the city behind her. For the moment, she was dressed in a white sundress, complete with a straw hat and white sandals, though the latter was off so her feet could dig themselves into the sand.

Then, hours after she arrived, she heard footsteps heading her way, small footsteps.

"Makuahine?"

America looked up, seeing one of her youngest daughters heading her way. Hawaii's almond-shaped brown eyes were full of concern as she looked at her mother, her long black hair flying lightly thanks to the breeze. Around her left wrist, her pearl and seashell headpiece was wrapped, looking like an elegant bracelet and ring combined.

America smiled at her. "What is it dear?"

"Are you okay Makuahine?" The concern in Hawaii's eyes didn't leave. "You seem troubled."

America's smile weakened, and without a word, she offered Hawaii to sit next to her, which the second youngest state didn't hesitate to take. For a moment, the two of them watched the scene in front of them go on by without a care about what was happening to those enjoying its beauty and simplicity.

America envied that.

Finally, Hawaii looked at her mother. "Makuahine?" she questioned.

America jumped a little, then mentally slapped herself. "Sorry Kyleen, I was just thinking."

"About what?" Then Hawaii seemed to understand. "It's about your marriage, is it?"

America nodded. "I know that in today's age, arranged marriages are not common and are unneeded, but this one is different."

"You're marrying a man you do not love," stated Hawaii, a downcast expression appearing on her face.

America smiled sadly. "Yes."

The two were silent for a few moments longer, though now America noticed that Hawaii was glancing into the sand with a bitter expression on her face. She didn't need to guess to know the cause of it.

"Makuahine," Hawaii began slowly, "do you really need to marry China?"

America didn't answer at first. "It depends on how you look at it Kyleen, but in a way, this can help our country and China's country in the long run."

"I know that, but why did you have to marry China?"

America took longer to answer. "I don't know Kyleen, I really don't, but if I were to guess, this will connect our countries in ways other alliances will not."

Hawaii didn't respond to that for a few minutes, her eyes now shifting to look into the horizon, where the sea was shining brilliantly, almost like a rare precious gem.

"I don't like it Makuahine," she finally said.

America smiled sadly. "I know you don't Kyleen, especially since I am marrying a man who enjoyed tormenting me even after finding out I was actually a woman. Marrying a man who thinks he's mature is not a pleasant thing."

Hawaii bit her lip. "I just wish he didn't have to keep blaming his own faults on you," she said. "If he really was as mature as he said, he wouldn't be doing that in the first place. I'm really glad Makuahane didn't end up like him."

"Me too hun, me too," said America. "Japan always will be his own person, no matter what China says."

Hawaii giggled at that.

"That's true." Then her frown was back. "Makuahine, what happens if China goes back on his promise?"

America pursed her lips for a moment before forcing her smile to return. "Let's cross that bridge when we cross it okay honey, though, I hope to the gods that China will not do something as stupid as that."

Especially since a war would be the last thing China would need. Still, if he was going to be looking for a fight if he went against their agreement, America will gladly go to war with him and make sure that he never gets back up on his feet again.

He may be older than her, but America couldn't give a damn about that, for if he ever did something as stupid as breaking an alliance for whatever reason, she will destroy him and will not show any mercy.

But let's just hope he uses a smart decision for once in his life.

~~~

By the time China arrived, it was in the late afternoon. It had been decided that China would stay with America in her home in Hawaii, and secretly America was grateful that neither her boss or China's boss made China stay with the mansion that she and her children would usually use when they were staying together. She had no doubt that things would've been tense, awkward, and outright distrusting between her children and China.

Not to mention it wasn't that hard to imagine what some of her more violent children would do if China made even one slip of the tongue if she isn't around.

Anyway, America had finished with the preparations when she heard a knock on the door. Answering it, she saw China standing there, carrying his belongings and dressed in a comfortable shirt and trousers. His hair was still up in its ponytail, but America politely smiled at him.

"Hello Mr. Wang," she greeted. "Come on in."

China followed her inside, not saying a word. Rather, he seemed to draw his luggage closer to his chest, almost looking afraid. America raised an eyebrow at this, but ultimately shrugged it off as she closed the door after him.

"I hope you had a nice flight?" she asked next, snapping China out of whatever stupor he was in.

"O-Of course aru! Not very comfortable of course, but I lived!" Once again, America raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"That's good. Well, follow me, I'll show you to your room before we have dinner." America took walking, China not too far behind her towards the guest room.

Her house here was small, having only seven rooms compared to her nearby mansion, but she mostly preferred this one mostly because she was going to need the comfort it seemed with what was to come. Although she wasn't looking at him, America could tell that China was surprised at how clean, organized, and overall small the house was, but she didn't care. After all, seeing him surprised was nothing new these days, especially after she revealed her true gender.

Eventually they arrived to the guest room, which was a small yet spacious room with a bookshelf, a small bed, a small connected bathroom, a closet, and even slide doors leading onto the porch outside that overlooked the sea. There was also a short table nearby that contained a tea set and comfortable pillow seats. China eyed the room with astonishment, but America ignored it.

"Well, get yourself comfortable. I will get dinner ready," she said. As she prepared to leave, China called out.

"Hold on."

America stopped, turning around. "Yes?"

"What are you really doing America?" China was looking suspiciously at her, but America raised another eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean why are you being so polite aru? Are you covering something up?"

America didn't know whether to scoff or shake her head at the older nation's foolishness, but ultimately, did neither. "I am hiding nothing Mr. Wang. Why would I hide something from a guest of mine who is to become my husband soon?"

"That's just it aru!" China had thrown away his luggage at this point, glaring at America with clear loathing and confusion. "You're not going into this because you love me, but only because you see me as a bargaining chip, something for your own personal gain! You really are a selfish Westerner!"

America tilted her head to the side. "What made you get the idea that I was being selfish? You did propose this marriage yourself have you not?"

"Well, yes, but--"

"Then you have no right to accuse me of being selfish Mr. Wang. True, I agreed to this because this could help both of our countries, not just mine, but nowhere did the alliance say love had to be involved, and it was something that you never said when you met with me either. So I fail to understand what you really want here."

China fell silent at that, and his expression turned sorrowful and...was that guilt? America once more ignored the look as she turned back around.

"If we have nothing else to discuss, get yourself comfortable Mr. Wang. I will come get you once dinner is ready, which is going to take me a little bit for I was busy earlier. I hope you will excuse me for that."

China didn't answer, and as soon as she was out of his sight, America sighed heavily.

The man really didn't know what he wanted did he?

Just her luck.


	26. His American Wife (China) (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, if the wedding traditions are inaccurate, I apologize in advance. Also, if any of you get confused on what happens, don't worry, I got confused too when I researched this, and again, I'm not sure if this is correct.

Months have passed, and that amount of time had been...intense to say the least.

Despite being in the comforting environment that was her home, America found herself getting constant headaches and mental exhaustive episodes, all thanks to China. China, while using the wise decision of not being his usual self in her home, was still not pleasant to be around, as his very presence seemed to carry a darkness with it that spread to anything exposed to it.

Things had also been awkward, and America was not afraid to admit that she felt...embarrassed around the older nation. Of course, they hadn't really been that way when they were planning preparations for the wedding, but the times they weren't doing that was another story, and now America was starting to regret ever agreeing to this.

Though, speaking of the wedding, it was agreed that they would have a Chinese-themed wedding with a Western touch, with everything, such as the wedding attires, the decorations, and even the food, would be red, the color of good luck in Chinese culture. However, due to the fact that neither America or China wanted the normal flashy wedding themes seen in either of their countries, they were only going to be having a small wedding with only a few Chinese traditions, such as the tea ceremony.

America knew her boss and China's boss wouldn't have minded to fill in the roles in Chinese culture, but America didn't want to waste their time.

And it was definitely something she didn't want to expose her children to either.

Speaking of her children, they all stated that they wouldn't be attending the wedding both due to urgent affairs and because they didn't want to see their mother marrying a man they distrusted. Of course, they didn't say the last part, but America easily detected it.

She couldn't blame them though, and it would be easier for her if they didn't come, so she agreed.

Anyway, for the wedding, China agreed to let it take place at a nearby suite by the beach, believing the scenery would be good for the both of them, but in return the suite would need to be prepared for the three days of the wedding, while also going as far as to hire people who were familiar with Chinese wedding traditions.

As for the outfits, America would wear a long red dress with a red hairpin, along with red lipstick and red slippers. It was a beautiful dress that looked like it could hug her figure perfectly despite the fact that she hadn't tried it on yet, while China was to wear a regular wedding suit with a red tie and a pin full of lily flowers. It had also been decided that he was to cut his hair to look more formal.

America almost choked on her water at the thought.

Though, now that the wedding was getting closer and closer, America could feel her anxiety growing as she prayed this would not end up poorly, making the alliance void and useless.

_Oh great Mother Gaia, _she prayed the night before the wedding. _Please do not let this happen._

~~~

Today was the day.

It was early afternoon, and America had been busy all morning getting ready. China was out, finding another place she'll have to go to when it was time, and now it was just her and the woman who was assigned to help her into her wedding attire and comb her hair.

Said woman didn't really tell her her name, though she was clearly of Asian (specifically Japanese) descent with her almond-shaped dark brown eyes, the matching hair, and pale skin. America also knew the girl had been living in Hawaii for years, in fact she had been born and raised here, learning not only about Japanese culture but also Chinese culture. She also worked with Chinese weddings, helping brides with their hair and attire, just like she was doing with America right now.

First, the woman helped America into her red wedding dress, and her early thoughts of the dress were correct, for it hugged her figure perfectly yet was modest, the slippers fit her feet perfectly and were comfortable, the lipstick brought out her eyes, and her bun looked elegant and regal, not counting the fact that the veil was hiding most of her face.

America really thought she was looking at another woman.

The night before though, the woman had combed her hair as was the custom of girls or boys reaching adulthood. While she did this, the woman incited something at each stroke.

"May your marriage last a lifetime. May you be blessed with a happy and harmonious marriage until old age. May you be blessed with an abundance of children and grandchildren. May you be blessed with longevity."

Each stroke made America sad, for the woman thought she was brushing the hair of a woman who was about to get married to the man she loved, when that couldn't have been anymore wrong. Still, she didn't want to destroy that, so she said nothing.

By the time they were finished, the woman eyed America, her eyes pleased and amazed.

"You look beautiful Miss," she said. "Your groom is so lucky to have you."

America did her best to not smile weakly. "Thank you."

Just then there was a knock on her door, and the woman was quick to answer it. On the other side was China, dressed in his wedding suit and looking quite dapper with how out of place he looked. The fact that his hair was cut also added to the affect, and America for a moment wondered if this man was really China.

His face told her so.

Behind him, a group of men stood, smiling tiredly but excitedly, and further behind them, a group of bridesmaids smiled in satisfaction and pride, holding various items. According to Chinese wedding traditions, the groom had to work to get to his bride's home, which the bridesmaids were for. Symbolizing the unwillingness of the bride's family to let her go, the bridesmaids would test the groom to see if he is worthy of his bride. After proving himself, he would go to his bride's home, just like China was doing right now.

He was smiling at her too, and without a word, he walked into the house in front of her, and after lifting the veil from her face, placed his lips on hers. His mouth tasted strange, though America supposed that was because of the foods he was forced to eat as part of the various tests the bridesmaids gave him.

In the end, she knew this was it. That kiss had just sealed their union. She was now the wife of China's personification, Yao Wang, a man who never truly cared about her or the people closest to him, a man who had witnessed more conflict that she, and who was one of the many nations who was cruel to her because of her made-up flaws.

Another existence, another misfortune.

After he pulled away, China looked at her and said in a low whisper, "Are you ready?"

America forced herself to smile back. "Yes." She then grabbed her bouquet, which consisted of lilies and roses, before following China out the door and into his car, which was a mini limo, all while a red umbrella was placed over her head to keep bad luck away from her. After helping her in, China climbed in after her and motioned for the driver to take them to China's suite to perform the traditional tea ceremony, the car moving shortly after.

As soon as the car moved, America felt she was heading to her own doom.

China eyed her, his gaze hiding nothing. "You look beautiful aru."

America nodded. "Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself."

China blushed, and was ultimately quiet for the rest of the ride, and America didn't know if that was a blessing or a curse.

She supposed it was both.


	27. His American Wife (China) (Part 4)

The wedding day had been long, like really, really long, and America had been thankful when it finally ended and she was allowed to sleep.

Not including the fact that she now had to share a bed with China.

China. The man she had just gotten married to.

He was now her husband, a husband that she did not love in the slightest.

Despite how tired she was, America had difficulty going to sleep that night, and it was all thanks to the guilt she was feeling. She felt lower than scum, lower than shit, and it prevented her from getting the sleep she so wanted.

Eventually, after an unspecified amount of time, America went to sleep, and woke up to find that China had left without a trace.

Good.

America wasn't in the mood to deal with him at that time.

He hadn't touched her that night, hadn't made any advances on her, and America didn't know if it was because he was tired too or he just didn't want to perform the intercourse. Either way, America was thankful, for she had no doubt that China would've bitched about the fact that she wasn't a virgin, not like many thought. Still, she was thankful that even if he were to touch her that he had not been the one to take her virginity, something she lost centuries ago.

Now, they had been married for months, but neither have acted like a married couple to the other. In fact, China and America became distant after that, their previous relationship not changing to the relief of the states.

Speaking of the states, many of them had mixed reactions to China being their new stepfather. The calmer ones for example, while showing no clear animosity towards the older nation, possessed grim expressions on their faces, their distrust and worry apparent. The more active states were unable to hide their own worry and distrust, often voicing it, and others, like Maine, would turn cold and spiteful.

Thankfully it was never anything more than that, but America wasn't really proud of her marriage, despite the good results that came in soon after.

In two months alone, many Chinese people had moved to the U.S., often populating the less populated cities and towns and others the most well-known cities. As a result, many started opening up their own businesses and schools to teach the next generation more about Chinese culture and customs, while in China more people were starting to get jobs, and the pollution was starting to dwindle. Of course, there were still a lot of people who didn't want to leave China and were content with having one child with their spouse as ordered by the One Child Policy.

It would be a long time before the overpopulation and the pollution were brought under control, but America was confident that they had a good heads-start.

Her marriage was another story however.

Although things hadn't changed between them, that didn't change the fact that they were now husband and wife. That meant that China had become more distant from everyone, even his own wife, and that irritated America. She didn't love him or desire his presence, don't get her wrong, but he was still a husband, and husbands were supposed to care for their spouses, arranged marriage or not.

America could feel the annoyance she felt with him before coming back, and this time it was for a whole new reason.

For all his talk of being mature, and a brave man, he was nothing but a coward.

She really did choose poorly, and now her children had to have this...thing as their stepfather.

Then again, China was far from a good man anyway. He proved that to her over and over again, and it was one of the many reasons she refused to disclose the truth about her children or her actual gender for so long.

Although she hadn't seen China as a child or while she was growing up, she knew that when she finally met him in the eighteen hundreds that he was one of the many nations who considered women to be the weaker gender, that children with no father were considered bastards, and that land was very important.

America had grown fearful of him after seeing this, and this soon turned to hatred when she saw his personality and how he treated others. His relationship with Japan was considered strained at best, with Japan looking hesitant and on edge around his former caregiver. Of course, America had no doubt that China had been a good caretaker to Japan, as Japan looked sad whenever he was having an argument with China, but it was the same as with America and England.

Sometimes it made her wonder if those nations truly did care for their foster children.

Well, they weren't any of her concern anyway. It stopped being her concern a long time ago.

Now, America was back in Hawaii, sitting on her bed. As soon as they used the marriage bed the night of their wedding, America and China never really used it again, mostly because America saw no point to it. Besides, her bedroom was simpler and comfier, so she would sleep here as many times as she wanted, and not even her so-called husband would be able to stop her.

Now, it was nine o'clock at night, and America had been reading a book in bed when the doorbell rang. She raised an eyebrow at someone wanting to visit her at this hour, but shrugged to herself before she marked her place in the book and walked to answer the door. Once she opened it, she frowned.

It was China.

America stared at the older nation, wondering what he wanted. He wasn't wearing his usual attire, and his hair (which grew back to its normal length) was loose. His hands were also fidgeting, and America felt herself growing suspicious when she saw that.

"Good evening Mr. Wang," she greeted politely. "Why are you out so late?"

China didn't reply at first, but now he looked more nervous than before, causing red flags to go off in America's head. Then he said, "America, is it alright if I come in for a minute?"

America was running through a lot of scenarios in her head, but she quickly replied by opening the door wider and stepping aside. China didn't hesitate to walk inside, but he stayed where he was while America closed the door, heading to the kitchen to make some tea.

It was something she knew she would need at this time.

China followed her, looking awkward, but America ignored him in favor of making the tea. While the kettle heated up, she sat down at the table, motioning for China to join her. Once he was seated, she looked at him.

"I will ask this again Mr. Wang," she began, "why are you out so late?"

China flinched, but he answered. "I wanted to talk to you."

"About?"

"This." At America's raised eyebrow, China continued. "Our marriage, or...if you could even call it a marriage."

America stared at him, allowing him to continue.

"I know we both agreed to this because of the benefits it could have for both of our countries, and love was never part of the deal, but still...I acted like a coward shortly after we were married. I was not a good husband or a stepfather to your children, that I am ashamed to admit."

"Then why did you do it?" America asked.

"I needed to think."

"To think?"

"Dui. There was another reason why I agreed to this marriage America, and it wasn't because of the benefits."

America raised an eyebrow, but ultimately didn't say a word.

"It's because..." China took a deep breath. "I really do love you America."

America sat there, bewildered, and it was probably clear on her face, for China continued on.

"But I know you do not love me back, and perhaps you never will aru. I haven't always been a good man to you, in fact I treated you cruelly, even after I discovered you were a woman and a mother. It took a very long time to see that I wasn't the man I claimed myself to be, that I was a piece of shit, and you and your children were living proof of that. But even after I found out of that, I continued to treat you cruelly, simply because I didn't know how else to treat you."

America stayed silent.

"And now that we're married, I still don't know how to act around you. I know you don't care about me America, and I can't blame you for that aru, and I wasn't exactly being the best husband to you after we got married. I left you alone, treated you like we were not married, and even neglected your children, who probably are cursing their luck at this time. I understand if they want nothing to do with me, especially little Hawaii."

America raised an eyebrow at this.

"Hawaii. Japan's daughter...I truly thought I was looking at a young Japan when I saw her. I also remembered just how...beautiful she was when I saw her, but she was...so unlike him as well. She grew up without her father, and all because of me." China was smiling sadly at this point. "I know that Japan would've been a good father to her if he knew of her existence, much better than I have been for him."

The kettle started to whistle, and as America stood up to mix in the powder and pour two glasses, China continued.

"That's why I'm going to be asking you this America."

America turned to him, waiting.

"Will you...will you at least give me one last chance to make things better aru? To make up for all the things I've done to you? I understand if you don't want to, as all the things I've done are unforgivable, but all I ask is for one last chance, and if I screw this up, you're more than welcome to become distant from me and stop seeing me as your husband."

America eyed him for a moment, once more saying nothing, though she started to pour tea into the two glasses as she thought over China's words. He was right, he had done things that were unforgivable to her and her children, so much in fact that she lost count, which resulted in all this. But he was right about another thing; he was her husband, even though he had acted like anything but shortly after they were married.

The fact that he wanted to make up to her made America think, and she prayed she wouldn't regret this later on.

Setting a cup in front of China, she sat down and took a delicate sip of her tea, thinking of her next words. After setting the cup down, she looked up at China, her eyes serious.

"Alright," she said, "I'll give you one chance, but one chance only Mr. Wang, so if I were you I'd use it wisely and carefully, and it's like you said, I will not be giving you anymore if you screw this up. Therefore, my warning from before still stands."

China shivered a little at the threatening look in America's eyes, but he quickly composed himself with a relieved smile. "Xiexie Meiguo (Thank you America)," he said breathlessly. "Xiexie, xiexie."

As she watched him, America felt a faint smile appear on her face.

_Don't mess this up Yao Wang,_ she thought. _It would be a shame if we had to become enemies all over again._


	28. His American Wife (England) (Part 1)

"England."

Oh...oh...

America was blank when she responded. "Did he say as to why he wanted a marriage alliance with me?"

"Yes," said the President. "As you may have heard, the population has expanded dramatically, meaning that the economy is unable to keep up with the growing amounts of people. England's personification hasn't been doing well as a result, and Queen Elizabeth is desperate for a solution, so she looked to the United States."

"Pardon my words sir, but how can we be expected to help her?"

"I was getting to that. Now, being that we have enough resources to help not only ourselves but others, the queen is asking if we can negotiate a trade agreement while she's working on stopping the rapid growth in the population. That is where the marriage alliance comes in."

America stayed silent as her boss continued.

"Now, this wasn't an idea Elizabeth herself came up with, but England himself. He said that a marriage alliance would help to secure allies between the United Kingdom and the United States, especially when war or an inner conflict occurs. Having this alliance can also secure that we would be able to help the United Kingdom should something like this occur."

"And I take it Her Majesty didn't agree to this right away?" asked America.

"No, not right away. In fact, even when she was speaking to me over the phone she sounded hesitant to proceed with this alliance. As for the exact reason why, I can't say, but if I were to guess, she doesn't agree with arranged marriages much, despite being of royalty."

America nodded. That was understandable, but as far as America was able to tell, the queen genuinely loved her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Philip, and the elder prince loved his wife back. Though, personally, America didn't know the pair enough to care about their personal lives, mostly because it was none of her business and she sensed no threat to herself or her country.

Though America doubted that Queen Elizabeth would go as low as to declare war on her country, especially now that the old woman knew that America's personification is a mother.

America looked back to her boss. "And what is Queen Elizabeth offering us in return for this alliance?"

"Allies," said the President. "Queen Elizabeth stated herself that if we proceed with this marriage alliance, we would have an ally in Great Britain, which can help us in case of war or, again, an internal conflict."

America thought for a moment. She couldn't deny her boss' words, or what the queen was suggesting; having allies was something that the United States needed, and they have been without allies for some time now, which wasn't a problem at the present moment. Still, America did not think this was a good thing, especially when one looks into the potential future.

They needed an ally, and America found who she was looking for.

"I would like to have a word with Mr. Kirkland in person if that is alright Mr. President," she said.

"So you are agreeing to this negotiation?" asked the man.

"Not yet," answered America. "I wish to speak with him first to be sure that he is being honest about all this and that he isn't secretly planning something."

"Why would you think that?"

"Do you remember how poor our relationship was before he even discovered I was a woman Mr. President?" asked America. "He treated me like I was an immature child whose opinion didn't matter, and not only that, but he didn't care about my feelings or what harm he could do to me or my children, some of whom are his own children. How do I know that he's not trying to use this negotiation to get back at me?"

"Miss America, calm yourself," ordered her boss.

America took a deep breath. "Forgive me sir, I'm just worried is all."

"And I understand," said her boss. "Mr. Kirkland has done something inhumane to you and your children after all, and with a smile on his face if I remember correctly. I understand your concerns America, especially since you are a mother, but times have changed, and you know that. Maybe England is being honest, maybe he isn't, we'll find out when he comes here."

America nodded. "Of course Mr. President. Will that be all?"

"Yes, you may go now." With a polite bow, America turned and left the office, hearing her boss pick up the phone and type the numbers to England's phone. Once she was away from the office, she headed towards the guests' hallway, calling some maids to help her prepare one of the rooms.

It proved to be a wonderful distraction, especially when she learned that England agreed to meet up with her tomorrow morning in D.C.

What the hell has she gotten herself into?

~~~

The next morning came quickly, and now America was standing at the entrance to the White House, dressed in her best and awaiting England's arrival.

She wondered how this was going to end up, but knowing England, he may try to take control of the situation for his own benefit and even try to make himself look good. Of course, America doubted that, for England knew how to behave himself when around someone with power, or even a more sensible person.

Sensible.

Soon, at around 9 a.m., America spotted a limousine heading towards the gates, which opened shortly after to allow it access. Soon the vehicle stopped before her, and the driver stepped out before heading towards the passenger's side and opening it, revealing the man within.

England stepped out, mutely thanking the driver, who then closed the car door behind him. Dressed in a tuxedo, America barely recognized him, especially since his hair was gelled and combed back. Of course, his thick eyebrows gave him away, as well as his accent and emerald green eyes.

And this was the man who just asked her to marry him.

America approached him. "Good morning Mr. Kirkland," she greeted.

England jumped, but he quickly composed himself. "Good morning to you as well America," he greeted back, his voice awkward.

"Has your flight gone well?"

"As well as any flight would."

"I see. Well, come with me, the footman will handle the luggage for you, and I take it you're hungry?"

"Very."

America led England into the White House, nodding to the various maids and butlers who passed by her on their way to attend to their chores. By the time they arrived to the guest room America had assigned for England, their breakfast had been set on the table inside the room.

And when they got inside, America could feel England's astonishment at the room's appearance, which ranged from dark green walls, mahogany floors, shelves of books, a simple bed in the corner, a table next to the window that overlooked the gardens which contained a breakfast of bacon, sausages, and eggs, and there was even a teapot containing Earl Grey tea and a pot that contained unsweetened black coffee.

America directed England towards the table. "I hope you like the tea. I would've made it myself, but I had other duties I needed to attend to," she said.

"That is fine," replied England, who took a seat near the teapot, allowing America to take the other. After pouring herself a cup of coffee, the pair began to eat.

It was when they both were halfway done with their meals that America spoke up.

"Now, Mr. Kirkland, may we discuss the negotiations between us?"

England slowly set down his teacup. "Yes, of course. You may have already been told America, but my country hasn't been doing well recently thanks to the growth of the population. There simply isn't enough food or land for them, and we need help, quickly."

"What are you hoping to achieve through this alliance Mr. Kirkland?"

"Help and an ally in case something happens." England looked at America, his eyes hardened. "Not only that, but with an alliance with the United States, this could help the people find a comfortable lifestyle."

"By moving to my country."

England paused. "Yes."

"But why would you use a marriage alliance Mr. Kirkland? You could've asked for it some other way."

"I thought over this long and hard America, and this was the only thing that I know would work. It would help in the long run in many ways, and the economy is only one of them."

"So what are you hoping to give me in return?" pressed America.

"An ally and protection," said England seriously. "And I know you need an ally America, especially someone who knows what they're doing."

America didn't reply to that. "But how do I know that this isn't some scam you've come up with?" she asked.

"I don't follow you."

"Do you remember Mr. Kirkland?" asked America again. "You often go against alliances very quickly, as do other European nations. Although I will admit that my government has done the same in the past, I'm not sure if I can say the same about you now that we no longer use treaties. How do I know that you won't go against my back and commit an atrocity against my country?"

England looked offended when he spoke up next. "Do you really think that low of me America?" he asked angrily. "If you're saying I would go as far as to harm one of your children, one of _my _children more especially, I would sooner slit my own throat."

America smiled bitterly. "You don't need to lie to yourself Mr. Kirkland," she said. "But you need to calm down, otherwise I will not hesitate to say that I will not help you."

England flinched, and he looked down at his half-empty plate, his eyes downcast and bitter, but America paid no mind to this as she continued.

"However, you are right about one thing: I do need an ally during these times, and I do believe you are a good choice. So, I accept this alliance, but let me warn you Mr. Kirkland"--America's eyes suddenly turned dark and sinister, a barely seen red glow appearing in her irises--"if you pose the slightest threat to my children, my people, or both, I will gladly have you skewered myself. Is that clear?"

England recoiled in his seat, and he looked like he wanted to start running if not for the fact that he was scared on what would happen if he did. "I...I understand."

America's expression changed back to her neutral one from before. "I'm glad we both agree. Now, finish your breakfast; I will not marry a man who wastes food or drink."

With a flushed face, England went back to finishing his meal, America following shortly after.

She knew that things were about to become interesting, especially at the world meeting later.

~~~

She was right.

"WHAT?!" Almost every nation screamed that, their eyes so wide that it was a miracle that they remained intact, their jaws almost touching the floor. The sight was a hilarious one.

"I said that Mr. Kirkland and I are going to be married to secure ties to each other," America said. "Is that a problem gentlemen?"

"Amerique, are you sure you know what you're doing?" asked France. "Do you not understand what zhis means?"

"I'm aware Mr. Bonnefoy, and I agree with them. Do not treat me like I'm an ignorant child Mr. Bonnefoy, because I'm not. Now, anyone else have any questions?"

No one answered.

"I thought not. Now, let's continue with the meeting shall we?"

Everyone was too happy to agree, and the meeting was back underway, no one mentioning the arranged marriage again. America was happy about that.

She wasn't sure she wanted to ask anymore questions, especially with the headache that was sure to come as a result of this marriage.

She prayed for strength, because she really needed it at this moment.


	29. His American Wife (England) (Part 2)

The next few weeks were stressful to say the least.

When her children learned that their mother was getting married, their reactions varied. For one, the calmer ones, such as Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Wyoming, were surprised if slightly suspicious of what was going on, while the more energetic ones, such as Texas, Nevada (or rather Zayn), and Louisiana, were freaking out. America understood their worries though, for they have never had a father in their lives, and now they were getting one, but he wasn't the one they wanted.

Maine, on the other hand, upon learning that America was getting married to England, the very person who ordered the attack on Washington in 1814, nearly had another psychotic breakdown. America could see that from the way his eyes went blank, his teeth clenched, and his hands began to shake. Thankfully he walked out and began to run around the mansion to calm himself before the episode could actually occur.

It didn't help though that his mother was going to have to go to England herself to proceed with the marriage.

Upon learning that America agreed to the negotiations, the Queen Elizabeth herself suggested that the wedding take place in the United Kingdom itself. Neither America nor her boss saw anything wrong with this proposal, so they agreed, though America had asked if that meant she would need to live in England after the marriage.

"That is up to you Miss Jones," replied the queen.

Oh thank the spirits.

So throughout the next couple of weeks, America had been busy with packing and making a proposal of her wedding arrangements, and now she was at the airport, hugging her children, who wished her the best of luck as they would be unable to come with her due to this only concerning America herself and not the states' governments. Not only that, but her children had other duties that required their attention.

America was pretty sure that when she said she understood their reasons and accepted them, her children looked relieved if not a bit guilty. She knew they didn't want to see their mother marrying a man they distrusted with their family's well-being, especially after how he handled it in the past.

But it was like her boss said; things have changed. Or she hopes they've changed.

The plane ride had been uneventful for the most part thanks to America being on her private jet, but she couldn't decide whether or not the silence was a good thing. Still, she was grateful that she wasn't on one of the passenger airlines, especially since the back row seats were uncomfortable and hard to navigate around when one needed to get somewhere, especially if one is sitting in the middle or window seat.

Not to mention it was easier to sleep during long flights.

The flight couldn't have gone on shorter though.

America had fallen asleep through the majority of the flight, and she woke up to the sound of the jet descending to land. Yawning, America looked out the window, watching at the clouds began to engulf the plane, leaving the clear blue sky above. Then, after several more minutes, the clouds vanished, and the land below came into view.

America had to admit that England's countryside and historical buildings mixing with modern technology and buildings was a beautiful sight to behold. It reminded her of her own countrysides, the places her children go whenever they were able.

She sighed to herself; she was already missing her home already, and for the eighty-first time, began to wonder if she was making some mistake in this marriage. As the plane continued to descend, America prayed.

_Please Mother Gaia, don't let this be a mistake._

~~~

"Hello America." That was the first thing she encountered when she stepped out of the plane and down the stairs. Looking ahead of her, America spotted the man she was going to marry across from her.

She nodded back to him. "Hello Mr. Kirkland," she greeted back, dragging her luggage behind her. She then opened her mouth to say how his day had been going, but quickly closed it.

She didn't really want to know the full extent of his day anyway.

"How was your flight America?" England asked, leading her away from her jet as people began to work to get the rest of her luggage out.

"It was good," she said.

Eventually they arrived at England's limousine, and England opened one of the doors for her and allowed her to go in first. Nodding in thanks, she went in, sitting in the seat across from the door. England followed her in shortly after, closing the door behind him and signaling for the driver to go. The unseen driver wasted no time in driving away from the airport, and America looked at England with a questioning look.

"They will drop your luggage off at my mansion soon," he answered. "Don't concern yourself with that."

America nodded and looked out the window, watching as the country passed on by.

Their drive was a long one, and England didn't say much throughout the entire trip, but America didn't mind, for that just meant that she would be able to watch the countryside fly by. She loved watching how the rolling green hills moved as if in rhythm with some unknown melody, how a few houses and barns popped up here and there, and the animals that would sometimes appear, grazing or running through the land.

She suddenly found herself missing the days when she was allowed to come to England and secretly play with the farm animals on the farms near the castle. Her most favorite animals were the sheep, with their fluffy coats, cute sounds, and gentle appearances. She remembered laughing when she saw a baby lamb jumping around, having the time of its life.

That was back when England was alive and actually seemed to care about her, despite not knowing that she was a girl.

Where had everything gone wrong?

"Would you like something to drink America?" Snapped from her thoughts, America looked at England, and found that he was pouring himself a glass of champagne. Seeing it, America shook her head.

"No thank you."

England nodded and took a sip from his glass, leaving America to look back out the window.

What was she doing with her life?

~~~

By the time they arrived at England's mansion, the afternoon sun was halfway across the sky, and America wanted to be out and stretch her legs after sitting for a long period of time. Resisting the urge though, America grabbed her luggage and followed England into the building.

His mansion was large, not as large as the ones she uses when she's visiting her children of course, but still large. It was also a historic building that seemed to have survived for six or so centuries, a beautiful garden surrounding it, complete with a fountain, a hedge that seemed to serve as protection for the mansion itself, and the various kinds of flowers. The mansion's walls, windows, and roof, while looking old, were properly cared for, and didn't seem like it was going to fall into disrepair anytime soon.

England led America inside, and the inside contrasted greatly with the outside. Everything looked brand new, from the furniture, wallpaper, floors, ceiling, lights, and the various other rooms. America wondered what this place looked like before modern times, for every time she came to England, she would always stay at the castle or other royal estates, and England never took her to his own residence.

England continued to lead her through the hallways of the mansion, which America taking note of the layout in case she ever needed it. Eventually, they stopped in front of a door located at the far side of one of the hallways.

"Here we are," he said. "This will be your room."

America watched as he unlocked the door, revealing the room within. It was a beautiful room, with the large canopied bed ahead, the shelves of various kinds of books, a table in another corner of the room, a door that led to a bathroom, another which led to a rather large closet, and the large curtained window that overlooked one portion of the garden.

America turned to England. "Thank you Mr. Kirkland."

England nodded with a ghost of a smile. "It was my pleasure America. Now, do you wish to discuss the wedding arrangements today or some other time?"

"Whenever you wish to," said America. "Though first I would like to have a break from all that traveling if that's alright."

England blushed a little, but nodded. "Of course, the servants are preparing a late lunch for us, so if a maid comes to your room with food, let her in alright?"

America had to resist the urge to snort. "Of course Mr. Kirkland, will that be all for now?"

"Yes. I will leave you now America. Good afternoon to you." England then bowed to her before leaving her there. America watched him go, his footsteps echoing through the hallways. Then, when he was gone, she walked inside her bedroom and closed the door.

She sighed and ran a hand over her face, dropping her current luggage by one of the chairs at the table. This was it, she was here in England, about to get married to her former caretaker and the man who stabbed her in the back multiple times. For the eight-second time, she wondered if she was making the right decision.

"I must be losing my mind," she mused, looking out the window.

This better not be a mistake, even if this was going to secure the desired results for the future.


	30. His American Wife (England) (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if the wedding traditions are wrong, let me know. It's really hard to find something that spot-on on the internet these days.

Months have passed since America arrived to England, and things have been a little crazy to say the least.

America and England have been hard at work on preparing the wedding and discussing politics with Queen Elizabeth, who proposed a royal-like wedding one day, though America was reluctant to proceed with that, as that would not only lead to confusion on who in the royal family was getting married, but everyone may want to find out who this mysterious couple is, thus likely leading to the discovery of the personified nations.

The queen immediately dropped the subject after hearing America's reasons with a smile, and asked England what he was thinking.

In the end, everyone decided to have a simple wedding with only a few guests at a nearby small church, with America and England's bosses being invited alongside their families. Elizabeth and America's boss agreed, deciding to propose to the public that they were attending a wedding for some close friends of theirs.

Definitely better than making the marriage similar to other weddings in the British royal family.

It was also agreed upon that America and England themselves would pay for the wedding, since it was their wedding, despite Elizabeth's and the President's proposal to pay for it themselves. There wasn't going to be much to pay for anyway that other weddings had, for they were just going for simple decorations, a simple wedding cake, and a priest to read the vows.

England had already purchased the wedding rings, which were simple bands of gold, and he already set up bachelorette parties for the both of them attend. In fact, in just a few months, America had attended a lot of hen parties with the women of the British royal family, though due to the fact that she didn't want a wild hen party (or even a hen party at all), Duchess Catherine and Princess Beatrice had suggested going shopping and even going to a spa.

America accepted the invitation, and while shopping, they bought her wedding attire, and eventually went to a nearby spa, where all the women received a massage, facials, and even body treatments such as body scrubs. Later in the spa, the women spent time in the sauna, talking about their personal lives, and the duchess and princess asked America about her children.

Grateful at the subject, America told them about her children and how hard-working, dedicated, and loving they were, and allowed Duchess Catherine to go off about her own children.

"I'd love to meet your children soon Kate," said America. "They sound like wonderful children."

"I would like to meet your children as well," replied Catherine. "So does my mother-in-law. And believe it or not, but neither the queen or I were able to believe it when we were first told you were a mother of fifty-one children. In fact, my husband choked on his water when he heard the news."

"I could not either," chimed in Beatrice. "I almost choked myself."

America chuckled. "Oh no worries, I get that a lot, and it was hard, but despite that, it was all worth it. I'm glad I have them in my life, especially after all that's happened."

She really did.

Now, with the wedding approaching, America obtained a bridesmaid named Anna Wilson, who worked at the church that the wedding was going to take place. Upon hearing of their wedding, Anna wished to attend, and due to Anna reminding her of Hawaii, America proposed that she be her bridesmaid, which Anna agreed.

Finally, the wedding cake was going to be an orange marmalade cake instead of the wedding cakes America experiences in her own country, though she didn't mind. This was a nice change, not including the dancing.

Now, it was the night of the wedding, and America was expected to get as much sleep as she could for the big day tomorrow, but she found it difficult thanks to her anxiety, because tomorrow was going to be the day when she marries someone she knows she will never come to love as much as she did _them_, and this man was someone who stabbed her in the back so many times, who disregarded her feelings when she was still his colony, and who used her for his own benefit so many times.

This was a man who never truly cared about her, and yet here America was, about to get married to him for the sake of her country.

A knock came at her door, startling her.

"Who is it?" she called upon recovering.

"It's me," England's voice replied. "May I come in?"

America paused. Then she mutely sighed. "Come in."

The door opened, and England walked in, closing the door behind him afterwards. He then stood there in silence for a few minutes, looking at the floor.

America broke the silence. "Is everything alright Mr. Kirkland?" she asked.

That snapped England out of whatever stupor he was in. "America." He took a deep breath. "I want you to be honest with me."

"About what?"

"Do you love me?"

America was stunned back into silence, and she stared at England for a few moments, wondering what he was playing at. There appeared to be no treachery in his posture, in fact he looked like he wanted an honest answer. Eventually, America sighed and responded.

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Because I want you to be honest with me on this." England took another deep breath. "We're getting married tomorrow for the sake of our countries America, and while I know you have agreed to it because it will benefit you greatly to have me as an ally, I want to know, will you ever come to love me as your husband? As a man?"

America stared at England, her silence stretching on for what felt like five minutes. Then she sighed.

"I don't know."

Now it was England's turn to be silent. Then he ran a hand over his face. "I understand. It's foolish of me to ask that at this time, and I doubt that I will receive a happy answer even if you had one. But I ask you this America, will you learn to forgive me for what I've done?"

America thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't know."

"Of course." England turned towards the door again, a despondent aura around him. "Goodnight America."

"Goodnight Mr. Kirkland."

Even when England closed the door and walked down the hallway, America could still hear his words in her head, and how sincere he sounded. This was a shock to her, as whenever she heard England speak, he would always speak with a tone that suggested he was covering something up. This time he wasn't, and America was at a loss of what she was dealing with.

Especially with what tomorrow would bring.

_I better not regret this,_ she thought to herself as she tried to get to sleep.

~~~

Today was the day.

America was being helped into her dress by Queen Elizabeth's maids, who came to England's mansion to help her. The dress wasn't anything too fancy, just a simple short-sleeved dress that didn't have any decorations on it, and her hair was also done up in braids, with the veil being adorned to it alongside a cheap tiara-like headpiece. Her shoes were white slip-on shoes that hugged her feet well, and finally, she was given a bouquet that contained white lily flowers and white roses to complete her look.

When America looked in the mirror, she had to admit she looked beautiful, but she suddenly hated it. This wasn't the right time to be like this, but she signed up for this, so she had no right to complain.

She looked to the maids. "Thank you."

The maids bowed. "Our pleasure Miss," said one of them. "Now, shall we be off to the church?"

America nodded. "Yes, of course."

The girls led America out of the mansion and towards the limousine, the driver holding the door open for her. America smiled as best she could at the man, and said, "Thank you."

The man nodded. "It's my pleasure Miss." He then helped America into the van, making sure her dress or bouquet didn't catch on anything before closing the door and heading towards the driver's side door. Looking to her side, America an ice-filled bucket full containing three different bottles of champagne, as well as a cabinet full of clean wine glasses near her. Grabbing one, she took a bottle of champagne, opened it, and poured some of the sparkling cider into the glass, taking a sip soon after.

She really needed a drink thanks to what's coming up shortly, but she had was in the process of pouring herself another glass before she stopped herself. Now was not the time to get drunk, no matter how stressful this seemed. The sooner the wedding went, the better.

Now if only she could stop being a wreck.

Then the vehicle stopped moving, and America looked out the window to see the church the marriage was going to take place in.

She found herself stumped for a few moments; time passed that quickly?

Oh good gods.

This was it, the moment she was getting married, especially to a man she didn't love. Her boss, his family, and the royal family were going to be here to witness this, and this union could either help both countries or lead to disastrous consequences.

America prayed she wasn't signing her country's death warrant by going along with this.

The driver opened the door. "We're here Miss."

America plastered a smile onto her face. "Thank you." He then helped her out, and before America knew it, she was in front of the church doors, Anna behind her, a bright smile on her face as she grabbed the rim of America's veil.

"You look beautiful Miss," she commented warmly.

This time America's smile was genuine. "Thank you Anna. You look beautiful yourself."

Anna was wearing a simple white dress with no trail, a pearl bracelet, and white slip-on shoes. Her dark brown hair was curled with a small white ribbon adorning it.

Anna blushed. "T-Thank you Miss," she whispered.

Deciding to cease her speaking, America turned around and began to walk towards the doors, Anna following her. The doors were opened for her, and America walked into the church.

The church was beautiful, with its stained glass windows, seats, clean floors, walls, and ceiling, the ancient gold chandelier above, and the alter in front of her. In the seats, people were sitting already, and America was able to spot her boss, his family, and the royal family in the front row, who stood up with everyone once she was seen. In front of her was the priest, but America didn't see England anywhere.

Then again, she did arrive early like she always did to everything, and this was a different kind of wedding after all.

She approached the alter, nodded to the priest, and waited.

Then, just on time, the doors opened, and England entered, wearing a wedding suit and tie, with his hair slicked back and his posture elegant in its own masculine way. America almost forgot that she was looking at Arthur Kirkland, the father of most of her children, the man who so-called raised her after her mother's disappearance, and the man who betrayed her, who killed the man who treated her young self kindly and cared about her feelings.

And now here she was, about to marry him.

Eventually he was up at the altar, where he took America's hand. America resisted the urge to pull away as the priest said the wedding vows.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to..." His voice trailed out when America's thoughts overcame her senses. Right now the only thing she could hear was silence, the only thing she could feel was the feeling of England's hand in hers, and she could taste something foul in her mouth.

Was she really making the right choice? Was all this worth it? What had she been hoping to achieve by proceeding with this?

"Do you, Arthur Kirkland, take Emily F. Jones as your wife?" The priest's voice drew America back from her thoughts, and she glanced over at her England, her teeth clenched.

"I do," said England.

"And do you, Emily F. Jones, take Arthur Kirkland as your husband?"

Just say it America. One word, just one word, and it will all be over. Just one word, and that will seal the pact. One word, and you will be the wife of a man you do not love for who knows how long, with unknown results in the meantime.

She forced out the word.

"I do."

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

America forced her body to move towards England, to not remove her hand from his, to not recoil when he finally placed his lips on hers. She faintly heard the people clapping, and they sounded like funeral bells to her. When her new husband finally pulled away from her, America couldn't have been more grateful.

But now, here comes the dancing and feast, where she would have to accept the congratulations of those who didn't know better, speak with her boss and the queen, and dance with England, her husband.

Husband. The name sounded foreign in her mind, especially when she looked into the eyes of the man who now had that title.

America hoped this wasn't the beginning of some end.


	31. His American Wife (England) (Part 4)

It was done.

She is now the wife of England's personification, the wife to a man she did not love in the slightest.

The night after the wedding had been difficult, for how can one make love to someone they don't love? America felt like she was betraying those she really loved when they consummated their marriage, despite not being a virgin herself like her new husband thought. Of course, on that night, he had been shocked to discover that she was not the virgin he thought she was, and America easily spotted the disapproval and the anger in his gaze.

But at least he left her alone for the rest of the night.

And now her children had a father in their lives, and many of them had not been pleased. After America came back after the wedding, things have been a little different. Of course, her children acted the way they always have, but whenever they were reminded about their mother's marriage, they had various reactions.

The calmer ones had grim expressions on their faces, while the more wild ones were openly worried, and Maine? Oh god Maine, he would immediately turn cold whenever England was brought up.

America was starting to regret this marriage, but she couldn't deny the results.

In one month alone, the status of the economy had been rising, and the birth rates began to dwindle. Not only that, but many British have been moving to the U.S. and settling in the less populated towns and cities to America's relief. She could tell that many of the immigrants couldn't handle the stress of the much bigger cities, and the less populated ones proved to be up their alley.

It was nice when people outside her country remembered that there was more than one culture in the United States.

Now, America was back in England, sitting in her assigned bedroom in her husband's mansion. After the marriage, the two of them had been distant, only coming together when politics demanded it. Of course, that didn't stop England from checking up on her on occasion, and he even was asking her if she was doing alright, how her children were doing, if they were taking the marriage well, and what he could do to make this situation easier for her.

America always replied that everything was fine. She didn't want to tell him her actual feelings, and she doubted he would understand.

He never did anyway, well, not when it came to her anyway.

And this marriage shouldn't change that. America doubted that she would come to love England, or that he would come to love her as a woman. Again, this was an arranged marriage, a political union, which meant that love is often never part of the deal, no matter what the President or Queen Elizabeth said.

But she was now a wife, and there were things that would be expected from her as a result. She needed to try and make this marriage work, not only for her sake, but for the sake of her children and her people.

As she thought that, a knock came at her door.

She looked up from the book she was reading. "Who is it?" she called.

"It's me." England. "Can I come in?"

"Come in."

The door opened, and England, dressed in his work outfit, walked in. It was late, and America was already dressed in one of her oldest nightgowns, specifically the first one that Louisiana and Arkansas had made for her. It was one of her favorites, and despite the mistakes in stitching here and there, it was one of her most prized possessions.

And if England disapproved of it, he thankfully kept it to himself.

He nodded to her in greeting. "How are you doing America?" he asked.

"I am doing alright," said America. "Are you still working right now?"

England shook his head. "No."

America was silent a moment. "Is there something you need then?" she asked.

Despite how dark it was where he was standing, America was able to spot a tinge of pink in his cheeks. She raised an eyebrow, wondering if something was wrong with her husband, though she sincerely doubted he was sick. Then, after taking a couple deep breaths, England looked back at her.

"I was wondering if..." He sighed. "I was wondering if I could sleep with you tonight."

...what...?

America must've had that certain expression on her face, because England quickly continued.

"D-Don't get any ideas! I don't want to do that! I just--" He mentally slapped himself. "It's just...we haven't really slept together after the day we married, and I...I just want to do so...tonight if that's alright with you."

Well, that was unexpected. America truly didn't know what to say; like, come on, this is England! He was the most stubborn man in the world, someone who couldn't decide what he wanted, or how to voice it. And the fact that he was doing exactly that stunned America.

What the hell happened to the real England?

Almost too stunned to respond, America forced herself to do so. "O-Of course. We are married after all."

England didn't look convinced when he spoke up. "Then I will go get changed. Excuse me." He then walked out of the room without another word.

Even when the door closed, America continued to sit there, no longer able to read her book. Bookmarking it and placing it on her nightstand, she wondered what the hell just happened and what England could possibly be going with this?

What the hell was going on? Why would he want to sleep with her? America knew that they were married, but again they didn't exactly marry for love. She had been perfectly fine with the fact that England didn't want to sleep beside her, as doing so would be uncomfortable on its own.

Well, she was going to have to wait and see wouldn't she?

Eventually, England returned, dressed in his nightwear, and without another word, he climbed into bed beside America. Neither said a word, not even when America picked her book back up and attempted to get herself reading again.

Then England spoke.

"How are you feeling America?" he asked.

America looked at him. "I'm fine," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"No, I don't mean that," England clarified. "I mean are you okay with the fact that we are married?"

America stared at him, saying nothing at first. "Do you want my personal opinion?"

England nodded.

"Alright, no, I'm not. I don't like that I'm married, especially to someone I don't love. I especially don't like that I'm married to a man who only cared about me because I was a way to obtain money, who left me alone to raise myself, and who happily stabbed me in the back and harmed my children when I didn't turn out the way he or the majority of the world wanted her to."

England stared at her with wide eyes. "You...You really thought that? That I cared nothing about you?"

"Yes," America answered without hesitation. "And I know that is a fact."

"No, it's not!" America went silent when England stared at her with wide, wild eyes. "That's not true at all!"

She stayed silent as he went on.

"I know we haven't been on the best of terms in the past few centuries America, and I will admit that it's mostly my fault the way you turned up. I made you scared that I would do something to one or all of your children, a fear that I'm ashamed to admit was justified, and I did only see you as a way to obtain money for all the wars I had with France, many of which were on _your_ lands. I also didn't take into consideration how you were feeling about the conflicts France and I were having, and I thought only about myself.

"I ripped your family apart, making Canada hate you and forcing Mexico to stay away from you, all during a time when you needed your brothers most. And finally, I did hurt your children, many of whom were my own. I scarred many of them, physically, psychologically, and spiritually, and nothing I can do now can change that. Most of all, I hurt you America, so much that you grew to spite my existence, that your hatred eventually made you indifferent to my well-being and most of the other nations.

"You have no idea how sorry I am America, and I understand if you don't want to acknowledge me as your husband in the future after all I've done, but...even though I have no right to ask this of you, but will you at least give me one last chance to make things right between us? Just one chance, and I won't ask for anymore if I fail."

America stared at him, searching for any signs of treachery or falsehood, but found none. England's eyes were even shining with tears, and he was clutching the bed sheets tightly, his body trembling. She had never seen such a pitiful sight, and suddenly she was reminded of the time when she finally defeated him in the Revolutionary War, thus earning her independence and becoming her own country.

_"You used to be so great."_

How things have changed.

She sighed to herself, then looked England straight in the eyes. "Alright, I will."

England's eyes brightened. "You will?"

"Yes," said America. "But only one, like you said, and if you screw it up, you're a dead man walking."

England smiled, a genuine, weak smile. "Of course. I will make this right America, just you wait."

America smiled back. "I look forward to it. Goodnight Arthur."

"Good night Emily."

America turned off the light at this point, and made herself comfortable as she prepared to go to sleep. From England's soft breathing, he fell asleep before she did, sounding so peaceful that America couldn't help but envy him.

Suddenly she felt comfortable sleeping beside him, and eventually followed him into the world of dreams.

_Don't screw this up Arthur Kirkland,_ she thought. _I don't want to have to lose a good friend after all._


	32. His American Wife (France) (Part 1)

"France."

It took a few moments for America to realize what her boss just said, much less even respond.

"Can you repeat that please Mr. President?"

Her boss winced before complying. "It was France who asked for this marriage alliance America."

America stared at her boss for a moment and a half, and when she noticed that the man was shifting uncomfortably, she was quick to compose herself.

"And why would he wish for a marriage alliance with me?" she asked.

"It's been happening for some time now, but as you may have heard, the economy has not being going well, and despite the charity money that's been sent their way, the problem has not improved. France's boss was hoping that through this alliance, the economy would be fixed before riots break out."

"How does he expect us to help?" America asked.

"Do you remember when our population dwindled in the last few years?" asked the President. "Thanks to that, our own economy has increased and pollution has decreased, which may continue to improve for decades to come. France sees this as an opportunity to help his own economy and those who are struggling at the moment."

"Forgive me Mr. President, but if I recall correctly, France's problem is caused from overpopulation itself. Why does he not try to pass a law prohibiting the birth of anymore children until the problem is fixed?"

"Because it could take years for that to take effect, and the economy could grow worse around that time. You know this America."

America did, unfortunately. Still, she supposed she should've seen this coming, as France did look rather ill whenever he came into meetings. Of course, despite many of the countries expressing concern for him (England being among them), America felt nothing. She knew that France was going to bring this up during the meeting and may or may not blame his problems on her, demanding her to fix it like he always had.

And while he did bring it up, he didn't dare to bring America up.

At least he was understanding that his problems were not her concern at that time. She wasn't his mother, and she had made it perfectly clear that she was not going to help them with their problems if it didn't affect her in any way.

She wanted them to know that she was done being their babysitter.

But now...

"Forgive me again for voicing my opinion Mr. President, but how do we know that he doesn't expect something else from this?"

"Why do you say that?" asked the man.

"Mr. Bonnefoy is not exactly a good man Mr. President, and he was not afraid of hurting me whenever he could, all because he couldn't accept his own weaknesses. He also would not hesitate to claim my children for himself if he was aware of their existence centuries ago, and perhaps would've treated me like a whore."

"Watch your language America."

"Forgive me."

The President rested his chin on his fingers. "But I understand your concerns America, France was far from a good man all those years ago, and I don't blame you for feeling afraid for yourself and your children, but remember, times have changed, and the French need assistance. They don't want their children or family members to be in the middle of riots or, god forbid, go hungry. I know you can attest to that."

America clenched her teeth as she remembered the Great Depression and how much pain her people and her children were in during those times.

Damn this.

"I see." She slumped slightly. "You truly wish to help the French with this marriage alliance."

"If this bothers you America, we can do something else, in fact, I can call France right now and ask--"

"That won't be necessary," America interrupted. "I wish to speak to Mr. Bonnefoy myself about this matter if that is alright."

The President jumped. "Oh--of course, I will call him right now."

"Thank you, will that be all Mr. President?"

"Yes, you may go now."

America nodded in respect before she moved to leave the room, closing the door behind her as her boss moved to call France. As soon as the door closed behind her, she sighed heavily and walked away.

What did France want? Why would he propose a marriage alliance instead of outright asking for help? What was he hoping to achieve?

Those questions bothering her, America got to work on preparing a room for France to distract herself, 'cause she really needed it.

~~~

The next day came back quickly to America's dismay, but she hid her dismay as she waited patiently for France's arrival to the White House, dressed in her finest dress, shoes, and gloves, all of which were completely white.

It was around 9 a.m., and France was scheduled to arrive during this time. While she had been busying herself yesterday, one of the maids informed her of France's response and his incoming arrival to Washington D.C.. When America heard that, she was sure that her dismay had been showing if not for the fact that she was quick to keep it to check.

How strange, that she had been hoping that France would take back his proposal.

Eventually, America spotted a black limousine heading her way, the gate opening and closing the closer it got. Soon, the vehicle parked near her, and the driver got out to open the passenger side door, allowing a man with wavy blonde hair held back in a ponytail, a stubbled chin, and wearing a black suit to step out.

It wasn't that hard to recognize him.

"Good morning Mr. Bonnefoy," greeted America. "I hope you have had a good flight?"

France winced weakly. "It was fine Amerique, zhough I suppose it could've been better."

America nodded, that was understandable.

"Well, come on in, the maids will retrieve your stuff shortly, and I hope you haven't had breakfast yet?"

"Non."

"Well, follow me." America then walked into the White House, France not too far behind her. The walk was silent, and soon they were in front of the door that led to the guest room France would inhabit for a few days.

The room itself wasn't much, though it was tidy, possessed historical books as well as classics in England, Spanish, and French, and the room looked fit for a noble with its plush carpets, elegant bed, comforting yet eye-catching mahogany walls, and the chandelier above. America didn't need to look at France to know that he was staring at the room with wide, shocked eyes, but she paid no attention to it as she walked in and sat down at a table near the window, where their breakfast was waiting.

After seating herself, America looked to France, who was still standing in the doorway. "Come in," she urged. "The food's going to get cold you know."

That snapped France out of his stupor, and he rushed into the room to join America, sitting down in the seat across from her. He then poured himself a cup of coffee before adding some creamer to it, and America took a sip of her own unsweetened black coffee.

Their breakfast was an omelet with pressed caviar and sour cream as well as some fried eggs. America smiled when she took a bite of the food, loving how well the flavors blended together, and from the look of surprise and bliss on France's face, he agreed.

America wiped her mouth with a napkin before speaking.

"Mr. Bonnefoy," she began, "is it true that you requested for me to marry you to help your economy?"

France looked at her. "Oui," he said, "I'm sure your boss as told you zhis, but zhanks to my growing population, zhings have not been going well for zhe economy. My people are starting to grow restless out of zheir determination to feed zheir families and friends, and it's somezhing neither I or my government can keep up with. I was desperate Amerique, and with your own low population and high economy, I was wondering if you could help."

"But why request a marriage alliance?" America asked.

France didn't answer at first, and this made America's eyes narrow.

"Like I said Amerique, I was desperate to solve zhis problem, and even if my government passed a law to prohibit zhe amount of children born, it would not be enough. Zhe problem would continue for a decade or two, and my people will have started riots or, God forbid, a civil war. I don't want to be torn apart again."

"But say that I do decide to help you solve this problem, what are you offering me in return?"

France smiled at her. "An ally of course. I may not be as powerful as I was back zhen, but having me as an ally will be able to ensure some amount of protection. Especially with your own growing problems with zhe Middle East."

America frowned at the mentioning of the countries located there. "What else?" she pressed.

"What do you mean?"

"What else are you promising me? Are you promising that you will be able to keep my people and my children safe?" Something was off here, and America did not like it. "Do you understand the extent of your words?"

France didn't answer, his face full of astonishment, and America suddenly wondered why he had that expression on his face. If he truly was granting protection, he would've also offered to protect her children as well. Soon though, France responded.

"I will do my best in zhat category. After all, many of zhem are my own children."

America didn't reply, not even when a sad expression appeared on France's face.

"I know Amerique, you do not trust me with zhe lives of your children, especially after I failed to protect zhem so many times from zhe other nations, even you. After all, who would trust a person who failed zhem so many times with zheir lives? I understand if you don't wish zhis America, but even if I were to ask for your help through ozher means, it wouldn't end well for zhe both of us."

America stared at France, seeing that he wasn't lying. She knew he was right about not having an ally if he asked for help some other way, and she hated it.

So she sighed and took another sip of her coffee. "Alright, I have decided."

"Hm?"

"I will marry you, but only because you have agreed to be my ally, however..." America's eyes took on a sinister hue. "If you pose the slightest threat to my people or my children, and I mean the slightest, the economy will not be the thing that destroys you, is that clear?"

France flinched, his eyes wide. "O-Oui!"

America relaxed. "Good, now, let's finish eating shall we?"

~~~

"WHAT?!"

America stared evenly at the dumbstruck nations, not understanding the reasons of why.

"You heard me everyone," she said. "France and I are going to be married in a year's time to secure an alliance between our countries."

"What's the meaning of this?!" demanded England, shooting from his seat as he glared furiously at America. "You're marrying a bloody frog!"

"I would calm down if I were you Mr. Kirkland," America warned, voice dangerously low. "I'll have you know I'm not in the mood to fuel your ego or your pathetic grudge against France, so sit down and be quiet."

England opened his mouth to say something else, but America's eyes flashed red, causing him to flinch back into his seat. Seeing that he was subdued for the time being, America looked to the other nations.

"Anyone else have anything to say in protest to this alliance?"

None answered.

"I thought not, now let's continue with the meeting."

For once, they were getting things done, though the atmosphere was heavy, not that America was paying attention to it.

She was just hoping she didn't sign her own death warrant.


	33. His American Wife (France) (Part 2)

America had never wanted the earth to crack open and swallow her whole more she had the last few weeks.

Things had been crazy with her and her family once word got out that America was going to be marrying the personification of France in order to not only help the latter's economic problems, but also to create an ally. Depending on the state, her children reacted negatively. The calmer ones, such as Virginia, Pennsylvania, Montana, and even Wyoming, had grim expressions on their faces, while the more expressive ones showed their worry and distrust of the older nation, and it didn't matter that the man was the father of most of them.

Though, it wasn't like America could blame her children for feeling the way they were, as France was one of the many nations who made a personal enemy out of America for centuries before it was known that she was a woman, and who never stood up for her whenever the other nations made up flaws about her. He always claimed that he had been a good parent, and while that had been true with Canada, America couldn't say the same when it came to her.

Still, it wasn't like America was marrying this man out of love. After all, in most arranged marriages, love was never part of the deal.

And one thing was for certain, she would never love France the way she did _them_. He was never there for her like they were, didn't love her the way they did, and he certainly would never be humble enough to admit his own flaws and mistakes like they were. This marriage was not out of love, and it never would, and she will only be France's wife in title only.

Still, she was hoping she wasn't signing her own death warrant.

Though it didn't help that France was coming to America to stay with them.

Once the negotiations were made, it was agreed that the wedding would take place in America, with all Western traditions.

So over the next few weeks, America and her children had been hard at work keeping their minds busy by cleaning the house and making sure it looked nice for France's arrival. Hell, even after they were finished with the preparations, they continued to clean like their lives depended on it, but it did nothing to calm their troubled minds.

And now today was the day that France was supposed to arrive.

Many of the states had taken to busying themselves with what they loved to do best. Wyoming was outside, playing fetch with Astrid and Buddy, while some of the others were playing softball or playing in the gardens. Others stayed inside, cooking dinner, reading, sewing, or writing, it depended. America just happened to be reading a book by the fireplace, and soon she heard a car pull in and a pair of multiple footsteps walk inside.

"He's here Mother," called Connecticut.

America mutely sighed to herself as she marked her place and closed her book. Time to face the music she guessed.

She walked to the door, opening it to find that France was gathering his belongings from the limo he traveled in. She walked out of her mansion towards him.

Spotting her, France smiled at her. "Bonjour Amerique," he greeted.

America nodded. "Hello Mr. Bonnefoy, do you need any help?"

"Non, I got it." France politely waved America away and he gathered his bags, and once he had them situated, he turned to face her and followed her into the mansion.

"You'll have to excuse my children," she said, "for they are busy at the moment, and not all of them will be able to greet you."

"Zhat is alright," said France. "If zhey are busy, zhey are busy. It is fine."

America resisted the urge to glance back at him after he said those words. He sounded so patient, so understanding, and so fatherly, and suddenly she felt suspicious of him. For a second there, she thought he was mistaking her for Canada once more, where his face would turn nasty whenever he realized it was just her.

He had been a man of favoritism, just like England, and that caused America to hate him so much in the past. Not only that, but he never came to check on her to see if she was doing alright whenever she was going through hard times, nor did he give her a shoulder to lean on when she so desperately needed one.

She remembered when she tried going to him for help during the slavery era, right before the Union and Confederacy forced her to split in half.

But France had waved her away.

_"You got yourself into zhis Amerique, now you need to fix it yourself."_

Oh she fixed it alright, and she fixed it without anyone helping her.

It really made her wonder why she even tried asking France for help in the first place. He never came for her after Canada and England burned down Washington D.C. in 1814, in fact he pretended like nothing had happened between them, that it was America's fault that her capital, that her children were harmed.

America never hated anyone so much.

But now, France was here behind her, talking so differently than he usually would with her. Just what was he hoping to achieve?

America ignored these questions at the moment as she led France into the house, where Indiana, Louisiana, and even North and South Dakota were waiting, polite smiles on their faces, but distrust apparent in their eyes.

"Hello France," greeted Indiana.

"Bonjour Monsieur," greeted Louisiana.

"Hi sir," finished the twins.

France's eyes were wide as he stared upon his present children, who stared back at him evenly. He was quick to answer. "Bonjour."

"I hope you had a safe trip?" asked Indiana.

France nodded uncomfortably. "O-Oui, I have."

"That's good." Indiana then turned to America. "Mother, is it alright if we get back to work? We would like to get it done before dinner."

America spotted how shaky the four appeared, and with a tired smile, she nodded. "Go ahead, but be sure to clean yourselves up afterwards, you hear?"

The four nodded and were quick to leave their mother and father's sight, and America looked at France, who was watching them go with a hurt expression. She turned away.

"Come along Mr. Bonnefoy, I will show you to your room." That snapped France out of his stupor, and he was quick to follow America to the room she assigned for him.

Both of them were silent on the way there, and while the silence was uncomfortable, America didn't really care. That just meant that the night had the potential to go smoothly if this kept up.

Finally, they arrived to the guest room, and America unlocked it to show a simple yet elegant room within, with its four-poster bed, plush carpets, rich wallpaper, a large shelf with historical and modern books on it, a large closet, a connected bathroom, and a table where he could enjoy his wine, a bottle of which was already placed on the nearby coffee table.

America turned to France and handed them the key. "This is your room from now on," she announced. "Do not lose this key, do you understand?"

France nodded, and after dropping the key in his hand, America stepped away.

"Well, get yourself comfortable then, for we're going to have a long day tomorrow as we discuss the wedding plans. Also, dinner will be ready soon, so I will come back up to get you when it's ready, alright?"

France nodded again, and America closed the door behind her, leaving the older nation in his room.

His room. The word felt so wrong to her.

As she walked to the dining room, America spotted the utensils, plates, and bowls already set out, as well as some of her children still hard at work making the food. Finally, she allowed herself in sigh in exhaustion, for this was going to be a very long night with France around, and she prayed that none of her mischievous children would do anything to prank France during that time.

That meant she would need to keep an eye on Maine and Alaska respectively, for who knows what those two will do if they're left unsupervised?

Ugh, this was going to be a long night for sure.


	34. His American Wife (France) (Part 3)

It had been months since France came to stay with them, though America wasn't sure if his time there had been pleasant or otherwise.

Well, for one, France had been respectful of her and her children's privacy and business (for once in his life), but things have still been awkward between them. For another, the states were very (and America means _very_) hesitant to accept France as a new member of their family. More than once, America was able to see the hurt in France's gaze whenever one or more of the states, or even one of his own children, would treat him politely, but were ultimately cold towards him.

America found herself sighing a lot during these months, and her recent headaches surprisingly had nothing to do with the nations.

She really needed to talk to her children in order to change their behaviors, despite the gut feeling that it wasn't going to change anything.

Either way, America had to admit that France definitely behaved much better since he came here than he would at a meeting, and that had been a relief in itself. France never sent any condescending messages her way, followed her rules to the last letter, and even held professional and mature conversations with her, whether they be while they were planning for the wedding or otherwise.

America had to admit that this change in France was very...pleasant.

Speaking of the wedding, both America and France agreed to let it be a small and private affair, with their bosses, their families, and a few close friends of theirs attending. They also decided not to invite the nations for obvious reasons, though nothing was going to stop them from attending if they decided so. As for the location of the occasion, France suggested the Rocky Mountains, as he thought the natural beauty of the mountains would be perfect for a wedding, and he actually wanted to go there.

America remembered staring at the older nation with astonishment, causing the man to sweat-drop.

Though, she had to admit that she had been pleasantly surprised to hear those words, and it created an eagerness to show the older nation those beautiful mountains, ranging from the streams, the waterfall, the tall trees, and even the wildlife that existed there.

Not to mention the Western states were surprised yet happy to hear that one of the other nations wished to visit the Rocky Mountains, and after that, many of them began to hold friendly conversations with France.

Well, looks like America wasn't going to have to give them a talk after all.

Anyway, France and America also agreed to pay for the wedding themselves, refusing to allow their bosses to pay for it, especially France's boss. Of course, this wasn't going to be a problem thanks to all the money both nations possessed, so their bosses agreed, despite the fact that the wedding was again going to be a small affair.

It was still good to have that kind of money had your disposal, especially when your own children were going to be attending.

Deep down, America was aware that her children were still hesitant and uncomfortable with the notion of France being their mother's husband, making him a part of their family, a family they had protected for so long from him.

It was going to be hard, especially when the very man their mother was marrying was one of the nations who didn't bother to protect America or stand up for her when she so desperately needed it.

It was going to be a long road ahead.

Now, the wedding was fast approaching, and America was preparing her wedding dress so it would be ready for her to wear. The dress was long, with the skirt trailing slightly, a low neckline, an open back, and its lack of decoration. Going with it was a beautiful star-like necklace, a veil that would be decorated with roses, and pearl white slip-on shoes.

She smiled bitterly when she saw that the roses on the veil and the fact that her bouquet was going to be made up of the flowers themselves. It was quite ironic yet fitting for this wedding that was for sure.

Just then there was a knock on her door, and America flinched, spinning around to face the door. Quickly composing herself, she called, "Who is it?"

"Moi." Oh, it was France. "May I come in for a minute?"

America didn't answer at first, but she sighed again and replied, "One moment."

She walked towards the door and unlocked it after placing the dress back into her closet. Opening it, she allowed France to walk inside, but did not close the door as she turned to face him. He wasn't looking at her for the moment as he took in her room.

What a surprise huh, that the nation you thought was immature and refused to help had a room that matched a mature woman's room? France didn't see any hero posters, any hero figurines, or any of that shit that America didn't really keep. Now, don't get her wrong, she loved her superheroes, but she also loved the anti-heros and villains (if the latter was done correctly). She just never really needed them in her homes.

"How can I help you Mr. Bonnefoy?" America then asked, startling France around to face her. His eyes were wide, but he was quick to compose himself as he opened his mouth to answer her.

"I-I'm alright," he said. "I was just wondering if you needed any...help."

America tilted her head to the side. "Help with what?"

France shrugged. "With the wedding tomorrow."

Oh, that.

"I don't believe I do," America replied. "But thank you for asking."

France nodded somberly, and he started to look at anything but her, making America raise an eyebrow. She waited for him to say what he was going to say next, and she didn't wait long.

"Amerique..." France sighed. "I also wanted to tell you...how sorry I am."

America didn't answer.

"I know you're not going zhrough with zhis because you love me," France continued sadly. "You're not looking forward to zhis marriage either, and it's because I'm the one you're going to be marrying. I know you don't trust me, nor do you love me, and I can't fault you for any of zhat. I wasn't zhe best guardian for you, nor was I a good man to you after you gained your independence. I may have helped you, but I never supported you like I should've."

America stayed silent.

"But just answer me zhis Amerique, and I need you to hear zhis. You don't need to be afraid of me anymore, but I understand if you will never come to love me after all I have done. If you wish to become distant from me after zhis marriage, I won't hold it against you. You're a grown woman, and you had been forced to grow up after we came and messed up everything, especially once you became a mother. I have never been zhere to help you with any of zhat, and if you decide to never see much of me after we are married, I will not complain, but please understand zhat I will not harm you or your children again, even if it kills me."

America's face went tight, and she stared at France hard. "And how do you know that you are going to follow through with those words?"

France smiled sadly. "I don't know, but you have my word zhat I will try my hardest to ensure that happens. Zherefore, if I go against my word, you're more than welcome to destroy me if you wish, but please, all I ask is if it comes to zhat is to not destroy my people's lives and all zhey have worked for."

America continued to stare at France, looking for any signs of deceit, and found none. From his sad smile to his unwavering gaze, America knew that he was telling the truth and was sincere in his words, but now she wasn't sure if she was surprised, nervous, or even both.

She closed your eyes. "Let's hope you hold true to that promise Mr. Bonnefoy, but I cannot promise not hurting your people or what you worked for if it comes to that."

France nodded in understanding. "I understand Amerique. Je vous remercie (Thank you)."

America nodded back. "Well, good night Mr. Bonnefoy."

"Good night Amerique."

As he left her room for the night, America once more wondered if she was making the right decision.

She better not regret this.

~~~

Today is the day.

The sun shone brightly, there was no cloud in the day, and there was even no wind to speak of. Many of the attendants had been pleased with this, and were even conversing with themselves about the beautiful weather and what they could do today while they were here in the Rocky Mountains.

America, meanwhile, was being helped into her wedding dress by Virginia, Arkansas, Pennsylvania, and Louisiana, with Arkansas and Louisiana constantly checking the dress for anything wrong, but seemed to be finding none judging from the smiles on their faces. Pennsylvania combed America's hair until it shone brightly before carefully working the rose-covered veil through her short locks, after which she placed the necklace around her mother's neck.

Virginia helped put a little makeup on her mother's face, which only consisted of some blue eye-shadow and mascara, but nothing else. After that, a bouquet of bright red roses was given to her, and America looked at the beautiful flowers, smiling sadly at their symbols.

Quite ironic.

Today was the day, the day she was going to get married to a man she did not love to create an ally and help that ally with their economic problems. Once again, she prayed she was making the right decision, that she wasn't placing her country or her children in danger by going along with this.

Her present daughters and son smiled up at her as they led her to the doors that would show the wedding outside.

"Good luck Mother," said Virginia.

"Good luck Muti," said Pennsylvania.

"Good luck Maman," said Louisiana and Arkansas.

America smiled at them, trying to not show how weak she was. "Thank you my dears." She then opened the door that led outside.

The music was the first to greet her, as well as the sound of shuffling feet as the wedding guests moved to stand up. After the sun's light became bearable enough to look ahead, the next thing America saw was him.

He was dressed in a beautiful black tuxedo, jacket, pants, and polished shoes. His hair was held back by a ponytail, his stubble was gone, and there was even a rose pinned the shirt.

It had taken America a moment to realize that this man was France, the man who was going to be her husband shortly.

Her husband...

America forced her feet to continue taking steps as well as a smile as she made her way to France and the priest, hoping that her worry wasn't showing. Her steps became more careful and precise, and it was hard to not tighten her grip on the bouquet. Finally, she was standing in front of France, and the priest started to speak.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to..." His words trailed off as America lost herself to her thoughts.

This was it. The day she dreaded more than anything.

She was going to become a wife, the wife to a man she didn't love.

She was scared, she was disgusted with herself, and she was praying hard.

_Please, don't end badly, _she was thinking. _Don't make me regret this._

"Francis Bonnefoy, do you take Emily F. Jones to be your one and only wife?" The priest's words brought her back, and it took everything in her to not flinch in surprise as she looked at France's face.

He was smiling gently. "I do," he said.

"And do you, Emily F. Jones, take Francis Bonnefoy to be your one and only husband?"

A lump started forming in her throat, and America was afraid the words wouldn't come forth. She forced herself to smile and speak past the lump.

_Just say it America! Just say it god damn it!_

"I do."

It was done.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

America forced herself to walk forward and not take her eyes off of France, especially when he leaned in and placed his lips on hers. Now, it became a struggle not to cry as the kiss sealed the contract, and the wedding guests started to clap in joy, unaware of the bride's true feelings about the matter.

She was married now.

She's now France's wife.

Suddenly it felt the world was coming to an end.


	35. His American Wife (France) (Part 4)

It was done.

America was now the wife of France's personification, Francis Bonnefoy, a man she did not love in the slightest.

It had been difficult the night they were married, and America allowed the older nation to touch her after he took her to bed, allowed herself to feel pleasure as his experienced hands caressed her scarred flesh, all while she tried to ignore how disgusted she was with herself.

Of course, she knew she had dug this grave herself, and she had been fully aware of the risks that could come along with this, but it still hurt. She felt like she was betraying the people she loved most, and it prevented her from sleeping that night.

She also felt disgusting in her skin, and spent a long time in the bath the next day. France appeared concerned after she emerged from the bathroom, but he thankfully didn't say anything as he placed a delicious-looking omelet in front of her, after which the both of them ate in silence.

As soon as she had the first bite, America found herself going back to the days when France would happily cook for her and Canada, crying tears of joy when they would voice their happy opinions. Those were the days when America truly thought that she had a new family, that she and Honan were together again after being separated for so long, and that their new caretakers weren't so bad.

And as soon as she finished the omelet, the once delicious taste suddenly felt bitter, but America couldn't throw up.

It was over and done with. Honan was dead, France and England proved her wrong so many times, and she had been a fool. There was no changing that now.

At the end, America knew that she would never grow to love France, not as much as she did them, and it didn't matter if they got on better terms than before. This was an arranged marriage after all, and the both of them were only in this for the political and economic benefits it could present for both of their countries. America wasn't looking for love in this, and she didn't need it from France of all people.

She didn't want to love him, not after all the pain he caused her, and she certainly didn't want to replace the men who already loved her. However, that didn't mean she was just going to make this marriage uncomfortable for everybody.

She had to try, not only for herself and her country, but for her children.

She did not agree to this marriage for nothing, and she'll be damned before it doesn't work out, if only for a little while.

~~~

Months later, things were progressing smoothly for both America and France's countries. The economy was drastically improving thanks to many of French moving to the United States and settling in both the populated and less populated cities, therefore allowing the economy to heal itself. And thanks to that, America's people were starting to become either bilingual or multilingual, which had been a relief in itself, and the education of her country was increasing thanks to that.

Of course, there had been some minor hiccups with the education and the people adjusting to a new life, especially since many of the immigrants had been unintentionally offending their American neighbors. There also had been concerns that the French would cause resources to dwindle with how many were coming in, though since only a couple thousand French moved and the others were staying in their native country, not to mention everyone had been quick to adjust and correct any misunderstandings, these concerns had been eased pretty quickly to America's relief.

"What are you zhinking about Amerique?" asked France, just as the two of them were getting ready for bed. Even though they had been married for months now, America still had a hard time sleeping next to him, so they often slept in different beds. France never complained about the setup, though he did look sad.

America looked at France, her husband. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with," she said.

"Amerique." France's voice turn stern, and he stared hard at her, causing her to feel like she was in a courtroom being held for trial, especially over a crime she did not commit.

She stared back either way, not saying anything.

"I know you're unhappy Amerique, it isn't zhat hard to see," France continued grimly. "And do not lie to me, it will not help you here."

God damn you and your experience.

America sighed and looked away from her husband. "You're right, so that means you understand what I'm thinking at this moment."

France nodded. "As I have said before Amerique, I understand if you have no wish to recognize me as your husband, or yourself as my wife, or if you don't even wish to love me. Now, I know it is too late to say zhis, and I have said zhis before, but I just wanted to say zhat I'm sorry Amerique, for everyzhing I have done to you and your family."

America looked back at him.

"Again, after zhe Revolutionary War, our relationship went downhill from zhere, especially after I began going zhrough my own Revolution. I knew you were a newly formed country, so you couldn't have hoped to help me during zhat time, but I had been a fool and blamed you anyway, not understanding that you were still so young. I never realized that you had bigger concerns zhan someone like me, like your children." France smiled sadly, and America spotted the tears in his eyes. "You were so young, and yet you had to grow up so you could protect and care for your children.

"I know Amerique, I was a hypocrite, and I zhought only of myself, and never over what you would be zhinking. I never tried to be zhere for you, especially when you most needed someone who cared, a burden you didn't want to place on your children. But...Amerique, I tried, I really did."

America stared at him, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

France smiled bitterly. "I know Amerique, you don't have to believe me, but after Matthieu and Angleterre burned down your capital in 1814, I tried to come see how you were doing, if you were alright, and even learn why you ordered the attack on Matthieu's land, but the people...zhey were so...angry and hostile. Zhey refused to listen to my reasons for coming, and harshly ordered me to leave by throwing rocks at me. I had never seen so much distrust of another country in my life.

"But zhen, when I heard that Matthieu and Angleterre had physically scarred your poor young children and traumatized another, I was disgusted Amerique, please believe me when when I say it. I should've tried harder Amerique, and now, thanks to my foolishness and the other nations' selfishness, you grew to view us as expendable pawns, and you grew to not care if somezhing happened to us. We destroyed that part of you, and we are to blame."

America continued to stare at France for a moment before opening her mouth. "Then why did you really agree to marry me Mr. Bonnefoy?" she asked.

"Ah?"

"You heard me. What is the real reason you decided to marry me?"

France didn't answer at first, and suddenly he looked ashamed all over again.

"Would you believe me if I said it's because I truly love you?"

America's eyes widened, and as she stared at France incredulously, France continued.

"I know, it's a foolish notion. The nation who constantly belittled another, younger, nation fell in love with zhat very nation, only to realize zhat very nation couldn't care less about him because of all zhe treatment she suffered under his hand. Still, I couldn't help myself Amerique; I saw how much you loved your children, even zhe children I had with you, and it didn't matter who zhe father of the child was, you still loved and raised them to be wonderful people, something I failed to do.

"Zhese may seem like empty words to you Amerique, but I beg you, give me one last chance to make zhings right. However, if I fail at this chance, you're more than welcome to cast me out of your life or, better yet, destroy me if you wish."

America stared at this pitiful man, so different from the nation who ridiculed her on a daily basis just to make himself feel better. She never thought she would see the day he would be acting like this in front of her, and had she still hated him, she would've told him to go fuck himself or some other cheap whore or, better yet, to go jump off the nearest cliff.

Sadly, she wasn't that woman anymore.

So, standing up, America walked over to France and placed a hand on his cheek, then tilting his chin up to look at her. Without a word, she placed a quick kiss on his forehead and pulled away, staring into his now red face seriously.

"Fine," she said, "I'll give you only last chance, and only one, but if you mess it up, you can kiss your ability to live goodbye."

France smiled thankfully up at her, before taking her hand and laying kiss after kiss on it. "Je vous remercie, je vous remercie, je vous remercie..."

America stared at him, smiling lightly.

_That's right, you better give this only chance you've got Francis Bonnefoy, it would be a shame if I had to lose a good friend because you couldn't help yourself._


	36. His American Wife (Japan) (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind that this is also a what-if situation of the Emperor still being in power in Japan. I am aware that Japan is not exactly ruled by the Emperor nowadays, but just bear with me here.

"Japan."

What the...

"Has his economy gotten worse Mr. President?" America asked in worry.

The wince said it all. "Unfortunately, yes," he answered. "The people are starting to get restless, and the birth rates are dwindling, but thanks to the recent tsunami, it has not helped. More jobs are being lost and the streets are filling up with homeless people. Japan and his boss are worried that if this continues, there could be a civil war, and I know that civil war is the last thing that Japan needs."

America shivered as she remembered her own Civil War. While she wasn't familiar with Japanese history, she was sure that Japan knew what it felt like to be ripped apart because of inner conflicts, how painful it felt, and how terrifying it felt as you were trapped in a room of darkness for who knows how long until the war is finally over and the original personification comes back.

It was horrible, and America didn't want her children to have to relive that horrible time ever again.

And she surely didn't want that to happen to Japan.

"But why a marriage alliance Mr. President?" she asked. "We could always just trade with them, and at least keep it up until the people can get back on their feet and take it from there."

"That's true," said the President, "however this crisis has presented a multitude of problems besides the economy."

America paused. "Go on," she said.

"I won't lie when I say that these problems have risen because of the economy, but corruption is starting to rise within the higher ranks as a result of this, and other countries are starting to see Japan as an easy target."

"For what?"

"For potential resources."

America stared at her boss, trying to digest what she was just told. Then she sighed.

"How could marrying me be of any use?" she asked.

"You know how our country's population has dwindled drastically these last several years?" the President asked. "Well, thanks to that, our own economy has risen and pollution has dwindled. The Japanese government, specifically the corrupted officials, would want to take advantage of the trade for their own means. However, through a marriage alliance, they will back off thanks to the United States' personification's reputation."

America raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent.

"The Japanese government is aware you are a mother, and how protective you are of your children and your people. You will not hesitate to kill anyone who poses a threat to either of them, and that scares the corrupted officials. Of course, Mr. Honda said that, not me or the Emperor."

America couldn't help but unleash a light snort. Of course Japan would say that.

"Not only that, but Japan would have an ally in the United States against the other countries, and you yourself would gain an ally in Japan later on once they regain their strength."

America nodded, seeing her boss' point. If things continued the way they were now, then the corrupted officials will grow stronger, causing the Emperor to become another puppet ruler, and civil war will inevitably break out. It was not something that America wanted to bear witness to, or even participate in if things escalated.

So, with a sigh, America looked to her boss.

"I'd like to have a chat with Mr. Honda if possible," she said. "Do you think he will be able to make the journey?"

"I can check," said the President, picking up the phone. "Are you saying you are agreeing to this?"

"I wish to hear what Mr. Honda has to say first before I come to that decision," said America. "Will that be all?"

"Yes, you may leave now." With one last bow, America left the office, hearing the President pick up the phone and dial Japan's number, but as he put the phone to his ear, the door closed, leaving America to head to the guest section of the White House.

She needed to distract herself, and if Japan really was going to be coming despite all that was happening, she would need to help him be as comfortable as possible. If things were as bad as her boss said, then he was sure to be in horrible shape.

Oh Japan...

Once she found one of the empty guests rooms, America went to work.

~~~

America waited outside the White House, dressed in a simple yet elegant white dress along with the matching gloves, pearl necklace, and heels, watching as the sun shone down on the gardens in front of her. Faintly, she heard the gates open, as well as a car head towards her. Soon a blank limo began driving up towards her, stopping alongside her before turning off. Shortly after, the driver came out and went towards the back.

Opening the door, he helped out a man with silky black hair, almond-shaped brown eyes, and pale skin. Despite wearing a business suit and showing no discomfort in his body language, America could easily tell how weary the man was, how ready he was to collapse to the ground. Seeing this, America bit her lip.

"Good morning Japan," she greeted, a warm smile gracing her lips. "I hope your flight went well."

"It went werr, arigatou." Japan tried his best to smile back, but it seemed that it just made him even more tired.

America gestured behind her. "Well, follow me. I take it you have not had breakfast this morning either?"

Japan blinked. "Iie?" he said uncertainly.

"Well, follow me then." America then walked inside, Japan not too far behind her. Their walk was silent, a little uncomfortable with how badly America wished to help Japan with how even walking seemed to be tiring. By the time they arrived to the guest room she prepared, it felt like a relief.

America lead him inside, and Japan almost seemed to sag in relief when he felt the comfort that he would feel in his own home. America made sure to replace the bed with a futon, that the coffee table was to his liking, and that the food he would eat would be just right.

Speaking of food, America had the maids make a traditional Japanese breakfast, which consisted of a bowl of rice, a bowl of miso soup, and some sushi, and America even made some green tea. Seeing this, Japan smiled, a tired, but genuine smile.

America led him to the table, where they sat down and clapped their hands together, saying simultaneously, "Thank you for the meal."

America helped herself to some rice, miso soup, and sushi, then poured herself a cup of green tea, before looking to Japan. "How have you been Japan?" she asked.

Japan pulled his chopsticks together, not looking at her. "Not...very werr. I'm sure you have been tord, right?"

America nodded.

"Werr, things have been bad...no, not bad, horribre. My peopre are becoming hostire to everyone, their friends, their famiries, everyone, and my government is not herping. At this rate, I'm worried that war wirr come, and I'm scared."

America frowned at him. "So did you request for me to marry you in order to stop this?"

Japan nodded, shame on his face. "I have. I know you're not fond of arranged marriages, Amerika, and I cannot brame you for that, but I do not want a war to break out between my citizens and government, nor do I want everyone to suffer anymore than they need to."

America nodded. "I understand Japan, however, if we were to go on with this marriage, what are you hoping to offer me? And what do you hope I can offer you?"

"I am hoping that we can be arries," began Japan. "I know we could have traded with each other, but with how my government is right now, that wirr onry made matters worse. Not onry that, but I know that they wirr take advantage of your own economy if we onry trade, meaning there wirr be nothing you can do to stop them. Therefore, the onry reaves the option of marriage. If I take you as a wife, the government will back off, and understand that you wirr not risten to them if they propose anything that wirr harm my citizens."

America nodded, understanding Japan's argument. But...

"You also agreed that you would be my ally once you regained your strength, correct?"

"Hai."

America took a deep breath, bracing herself for her next words. "Then you're in luck. I see great potential in this, so I have no reason to not go along with this."

Japan's eyes brightened with hope. "Y-You wirr herp me?"

"Yes. Now, eat your food, we did make this for you, you know."

Japan's face flushed, and he quickly went to eat, America not too far behind him.

This was going to be...interesting.

~~~

"WHAT?!"

Good gods why did they have to be like this in the mornings?

America stared at the nations blankly, unsurprised but irritated all the same, the latter which she kept well hidden. "I said Japan and I are going to be married in seven months time to help with his country."

"Do you even understand what this means America?!" demanded England. "You'll be weak with him!"

America cast England an unimpressed look. "Have you forgotten that he is weak because of how the economy has been and how poorly some government officials have been treating the matter Mr. Kirkland?"

"Well, no but--"

"But nothing. This conversation is over Mr. Kirkland, and if you have a problem with this arrangement, you can either talk to my boss or Japan's, but I doubt you are going to get them to change their minds. The decision has already been made, and I fail to understand why you are against this."

England fell silent and collapsed into his seat, no longer saying another word. The other nations didn't say a word either, and this allowed for the meeting to go on in peace, sort of.

Either way, America wondered what the hell she's gotten herself into.


	37. His American Wife (Japan) (Part 2)

America wasn't sure if she did something wrong, if someone else was to blame, or both.

Things had been hectic these last few weeks to say the least, for ever since word of the arranged marriage between their country personifications came out, both the United States and the Japanese government had been at a verbal war with each other, so bad that America truly thought that another Cold War was going to break out.

Somehow, both governments (or rather the more level-headed individuals) came to the agreement that Japan would stay with America until things calmed down, especially since being in his country at this time would not be good for him. America agreed to take him in until the marriage took place, and once things cleared up, they would move to Japan and get everything set up.

That was only a few of the problems though.

Many people in America were very, very hesitant to ally with Japan, especially after word got out about the conflicts because of the economy and the government itself. Of course, many wanted to help, but were scared of what would happen if they did that, while the Japanese people were growing more and more desperate for aid, becoming so impatient that more fights broke out.

Soon it escalated so much that the Emperor ordered the people to control themselves or else they will sever the alliance ASAP.

Needless to say, that subdued the people.

America truly never thought the situation would be this bad, and it was taking its toll on Japan.

When it was agreed that Japan was to stay with America, the relief was clearly so heavy that he almost collapsed to his knees and never got back up. He was becoming less and less talkative, barely able to keep himself awake during certain times. Bruises were also showing up in various places of his body, but Japan refused to let America check them, not wishing her to see them, while America stared at him, unimpressed.

He really chose the wrong times to be bashful.

In addition, things had been pretty hectic with her children as well, with them trying to get everything ready for Japan's arrival to their home. When they learned that their mother was getting married, there had been denial and fear, and even after America told her children who the groom was, that did nothing to subdue their fear.

Japan was one of the only nations they trusted (to an extent), as he was never cruel to their mother and showed her respect, even before he found out she was a woman and nowhere like the America he thought he knew. Still, with what had been happening with Japan lately, that scared the states.

There was nothing they hated more than the prospect of another civil war, or a corrupted government.

America, for the umpteenth time, rubbed her head as the beginnings of a headache began to make itself known. Just what was she going to do with her children? She understood they were scared, but this was ridiculous.

So, to distract themselves, the states had busied themselves with cleaning the mansion and making sure that Japan would have a comfortable room when he arrived. So far, the work kept them distracted, but they continued to do it, even when the mansion was so clean it looked brand new.

Oh dear...

This continued for the last several weeks, until finally Japan arrived.

America had been in the living room with a few of her children, reading a book next to the fireplace. Her other children were either in the kitchen, making dinner, or were still cleaning the already clean mansion. That, or they were outside, playing with the dogs or in the snow.

Speaking of whom, Hawaii and Alaska, the former who wore a coat so thick she looked like she was wearing many layers (and most likely was) underneath, and the latter who wasn't fazed by the cold in the slightest, came in, covered in snow.

"He's here Makuahine!" Hawaii declared, shaking in anxiety.

America stood up and walked to the door that lead outside. "Children, come inside!" she called.

Connecticut, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Montana, Colorado, and Wyoming were quick to come inside, with Wyoming's dogs, Astrid and Buddy, not too far behind them. Their tails were wagging like crazy, and as soon as they were out of the snow, they shook snow all over the carpet floor.

"Ah--you two!" America winced playfully when some sprinkles of snow hit her. "You all get busy okay? I'll be back here shortly."

"Okay!" declared her children as they got themselves busy with whatever, and America walked towards the door, putting on her boots and her coat before heading outside.

Wow, as soon as she stepped out, America felt like needles were stabbing her in the cheeks over and over. However, she easily ignored this as she approached the limousine in front of her.

She watched as the door opened, the driver soon walking towards the back and opening the door to help a familiar man out. Although he looked better, he didn't seem to be well, especially in the cold. America was quick to approach him.

"Are you alright Japan?" she asked.

Japan flinched, but quickly composed himself. "H-Hai, just cold is arr."

America smiled. "I don't doubt that." She turned to the driver. "Thank you for bringing him. Has he been well during the ride?"

"I believe so ma'am," he said. "He mostly slept."

"I see." She turned back to Japan. "Well, let's hurry inside before we freeze, shall we?"

Japan snorted a little, but allowed America to guide him towards the mansion, with America easily hauling his luggage. Faintly, she heard a car door closing and a vehicle pulling out of the driveway once they were at the door and inside the mansion.

The first people who greeted them were Hawaii and Alaska.

"Aloha Ma--Mr. Honda," greeted Hawaii, her fingers fiddling with her long dress and her eyes staring at the ground in a bashful manner.

"Privet Japan," greeted Alaska.

Japan stared at America's youngest daughters in surprise, before smiling faintly. "Hello there yourserf."

"H-How was your trip?" asked Hawaii.

"It was aright, arigatou."

America smiled at her daughters. "Why don't you go help your siblings clean up the mess the goof dogs left behind?" she asked.

Looking up at their mother, Hawaii nodded, clearly thankful, and left, Alaska following her. America looked to Japan, finding him watching his daughter go with a sad expression.

She smiled faintly. "She's just shy Japan, she will warm up to you soon enough," she reassured.

"I understand," he said. "This does ferr strange after arr, seeing your daughter when you have never rearry raised her from infancy."

America frowned sadly. He wasn't wrong.

They began to walk down the mansion halls towards Japan's assigned room, neither of them saying a word. Eventually, they finally arrived to the guest room they prepared for Japan, and America set down the luggage to unlock the door before grabbing them and heading inside with Japan.

Japan's eyes widened when he saw the inside of his room. It looked exactly like his room back home, only with more Western alterations. There were still the Western doors, but there was the futon, the low coffee table with a blanket, a TV, and his favorite anime. Japan looked at America, who smiled.

"You're not the only one who loves anime Japan."

Japan pouted cutely. "I know that, I just never thought you riked that kind of anime!"

Oh.

"You mean the silly and mature animes?" she asked.

"Hai."

"Well, I need variety, and so do you."

Japan blushed again.

America led him further into the room and towards his futon, placing the luggage down and handing him the room key.

"This is yours now," she said. "Don't lose it. Also, dinner's going to be ready soon, so if you wish to get some more rest before then, go ahead. You still look tired."

Japan smiled, but it soon turned into a frown. "How are you ferring about this Amerika?" he asked.

"About what?"

"The wedding."

Oh, that.

"I don't know what to think actually," America said honestly. "I'm content being single for the rest of my life, and I never imagined I would have to be in a arranged marriage, and who knows what could come from this, but I agreed to help you, and I will."

"But you're not happy, are you?"

America paused. Then she said, "I don't know."

Japan nodded, and America proceeded to walk out of the room.

"I'll come wake you when dinner's ready, okay?"

Upon Japan's nod, America closed the door and walked towards the kitchen, feeling exhaustion creep in.

How weird. It wasn't even the wedding, and she was already shaking like a leaf in the wind.

What a horrible liar she is.


	38. His American Wife (Japan) (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, forgive me if the wedding traditions are wrong.

Months later, America was starting to see a positive change in Japan.

As the wedding date got closer, things were calming down in Japan to an extent, but it was enough to help Japan regain his strength. He was able to walk on his own, and even was able to go about mundane tasks like he could before. That being said, he was able to help America make plans about the wedding.

It had been decided that they would have a Japanese modern-style wedding, and America had already ordered a wedding dress and Japan got scheduled to get a tuxedo. They also ordered a sake they would need to drink during the wedding, hired some bridesmaids and best men, and even sent invitations to their bosses and their families. Although America and Japan were not going to leave the nations out of this wedding, America preferred they didn't attend at all.

Who knows what they would do around that time, and the kind of attention they would draw to themselves?

The two had also decided that the wedding would take place in America in desolate area to avoid any unwanted attention, especially since the American President, his family, and the Japanese Emperor and his family would be attending. That would be asking for unwanted attention, and America had no doubt that both her and Japan's bosses were going to get an earful of questions on whose wedding they were attending.

Just the thought sent a shiver through America.

They also agreed to pay for the wedding themselves, despite their bosses proposing that they pay. Although it wasn't going to be a big affair, America already had tons of money, and paying for the wedding wasn't going to affect her any, especially since Japan wasn't in the best condition to pay for it. Japan had complained about this, but he was quickly subdued after America explained her reasoning.

He still didn't stop sulking about it after that for a few days.

As the wedding got closer and closer, America also took her time watching Japan's interactions with her children. Although they had been hesitant around him, they were now starting to view Japan as a member of their family, including Hawaii, who had been smiling big at the thought that her father was going to be a member of their family and a more active member in her life as a result.

But that didn't mean that they were going to be attending the wedding.

"Why?" asked Japan when he heard this.

The states looked guilty when they spoke. "We have urgent business to attend to in our states, and it can't be delayed," said Virginia. "It also will not give us time to actually come over and attend the wedding. Besides, you told us yourself that the less people there are, the better."

America nodded, understanding her daughter's reasoning. They did request to bring as little people as possible to once more avoid attention, and bringing in her children would surely draw attention. So, America allowed them to not attend.

She doubted they even wanted to see the wedding anyway.

Still, America felt warm seeing her children having fun with Japan, and Japan having fun in return. Looks like this marriage wasn't going to be a mistake after all.

Still, she was worried now that the wedding date was approaching faster than ever. She knew she was in this for her friend's sake, but what would be the result? Would it be good, or would it be bad?

America sincerely hoped it was the former.

~~~

Here they are.

America and Japan had gotten up extra early that morning to head to the valley the wedding would be located in. Their bosses had arrived yesterday, and should be there already, and the wedding was going to be taking place in a few hours, which meant they needed to head out now.

As they drove to the location, America had ended up stealing glances with the sun that was rising over the horizon, which seemed to match how her nerves were increasing. Today was the day, the day she was going to get married, and she was nervous as Hell.

Japan also seemed just as nervous, and he wasn't the one driving! But America was thankful that she wasn't the only one who felt nervous.

Though she did wonder how he was going to be able to handle kissing her. America hoped he wouldn't pass out on her during that time.

Eventually, they arrived to the location, and they were immediately rushed inside by the various seamstresses they hired, who took the two of them into different rooms to get them ready. America was helped into her white dress, which was a long and simple dress that contained a sash and ribbon around the waistline, and she was even helped into wearing long white gloves and white flats.

The seamstresses then got started on her hair, brushing it until it flowed like silk, curled it further, and placed a white lily flower in the crook of her ear. It almost felt heavy on her ear, but the gentle perfume of the flower calmed America.

Once they finished with her hair, the women helped America with her makeup, donning her lips with a glossy non-stick lipstick, her eyelids with sapphire blue eye-shadow, and her cheeks with a light pink blush. Afterwards, they guided her to a mirror.

"What do you think Miss?" asked one of the women.

America almost didn't hear them. In her reflection was a woman she barely recognized, a woman she could barely believe was her. Her hair shone in the sunlight that filtered in through the windows, her body looked extra curvy in the dress, her lips looked plump and shone like a gem, the eye-shadow brought out the color of her eyes, and the blush made her look more young and beautiful than ever.

This couldn't be her.

But she forced out her next words. "It's beautiful. Thank you so much."

The women smiled. "It is no problem Miss." They then handed her a bouquet of white lilies and white roses. "Your groom will be floored when he sees you."

America almost laughed at the thought.

Just then, the church bell rang, and the women ushered America out the door. "Go get him Miss," they urged giddily. "Your groom should already be waiting for you in the church."

Of course he would. Japan wouldn't have had to take very long getting fitted into his tuxedo anyway. He was never a flashy kind of man if you don't consider his anime and manga.

America walked towards the church part of the building, watching the outside world as she passed the various windows. The sun shone brightly in the sky, which possessed no cloud and thus allowing the sky to shine alongside the sun. There was a light breeze though, which was seen with the flow of the grass outside. The mountains also cast a majestic presence in the background, dark blue in color, but giant and beautiful.

How fitting for this occasion.

Eventually, America was joined by her bridesmaids, who were waiting for her outside the church doors. They smiled at her eagerly, and America smiled back, unable to fight off their contagious happiness. Of course, they didn't know this marriage was arranged, but they didn't need to know that.

America wasn't going to destroy her happiness for that.

They then pushed the doors open for America, and the music greeted America first. Then she heard the wedding guests standing as she walked in, her dress trailing behind her as she walked further inside.

She first saw the stain glass windows, which looked beautiful with the sun shining through them, casting various colors on the ground of the church. Then America looked ahead, and she smiled, holding her bouquet close to her chest.

Alongside the priest was Japan, and he was dressed in a tuxedo that hugged his form well. His black polished shoes also shone in what little light there was in his area, and his hair was slicked back, making him look younger and more handsome. America supposed he never did his hair up because he wanted to tone down his physical beauty.

She couldn't blame him. That had been one of the many perks to being disguised as a male for so many years.

As she got closer, America could start to feel her smile waning, and she forced it to stay. She started to feel like the worst scum of the planet, marrying her friend who she knew didn't love her and who she didn't love back, and betraying the people who actually loved her in that way, much longer than anyone had.

Before she knew it, she was standing next to Japan, looking at the priest as he began to speak.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to..." His voice trailed off as America was once more lost to her thoughts. She forced her smile to stay on her face during this time, but her thoughts continued to turn her into the opposite direction.

She was a piece of shit.

She really shouldn't be here.

She shouldn't be doing this.

She wanted to save her friend, but she didn't want to do this to him.

That wasn't what he needed.

He needed a friend, not a wife.

Certainly not someone like her as his wife. She would not make a good wife for him.

"Kiku Honda, do you take Emily F. Jones as your wife?" The priest's words drew America back to reality, and she looked at Japan, who smiled slightly.

"I do," he said.

"And do you, Emily F. Jones, take Kiku Honda as your husband?"

Come on America, just say it. Just get it over with.

How hard could this be?

"I do."

The priest smiled. "Then I now pronounce you husband and wife." He turned to Japan. "You may kiss the bride."

Japan looked at her, hesitant, but he walked towards her anyway, and placed his lips on hers.

America barely heard the clapping of the wedding guests as the pair continued to prolong the kiss to make their love more believable.

All the while, America was sure that Japan was feeling her own conflicted emotions.

What have they done?


	39. His American Wife (Japan) (Part 4)

Months passed after the wedding, and America never felt more awkward.

It was still hard to believe though, that she was the wife of the personification of Japan, the last person she thought she would get married to. Like, come on, Japan was not the kind of person who could handle physical contact with people for very long, much less even partially strip in front of people of the same sex. So, it had been an awkward yet humorous time for America to see Japan struggle to match the Western expectations of a couple.

But in the end, he didn't follow through with it. America didn't mind though, she hadn't been looking for it anyway.

They had been expected to consummate their marriage though, but neither America or Japan wanted to go through with it. It was pretty obvious to Japan that America was not a virgin, while Japan, while having experience with sex in the past, had always performed the act with people he was not close to for his benefit. It wasn't hard to imagine, and America didn't doubt it for a second.

But while things had been awkward between them as a result, America thought to the effects the marriage had on both of their countries.

In a short period of time, the economy in Japan had begun to recover thanks to the trade between the Japanese and the Americans, and the Emperor found enough evidence to fire the corrupted officials of the government and even get them sent to jail. America remembered the times when she had to speak to those very officials while she was visiting Japan with her new husband, and they approached her.

She was glad that the Emperor had imprisoned them with no hopes of getting out, as she had been on the urge of ripping out their trachea after they threatened Hawaii.

They knew that Hawaii was Japan's daughter, but somehow they forgot that Japan himself was in the room. America had never seen Japan so angry, so deathly calm when he threatened the officials back. She always finds herself smiling at the memory as Japan threatened the officials in Japanese, and with an eerie calmness that had come from a thousand-year experience of war, conflict, and politics.

_"Would you like to say that again gentlemen?" asked Japan in his native tongue, his expression blank, but his eyes dark and full of the need to spill blood. America watched him, her face also carefully blank, but inwardly she was impressed._

_The officials stared at Japan in fear, too scared to back away. "W-What do you mean Mr. Honda?" asked one of them._

_A grin appeared on Japan's face, dark and evil. "You know exactly what I'm talking about gentlemen, do you take me for a fool? Did you really think I would not hear you threatening my daughter's well-being, that you would happily have her relive the bombings of Pearl Harbor?"_

_The men began to shake, their eyes widening to impossible lengths._

_"Did you gentlemen?"_

_"N-No, we have--" Before the man could finish what he had to say, Japan's katana flashed out, the tip appearing mere inches before the man's throat. It was so close in fact that blood was drawn._

_"I am not in the mood to hear your lies Mr. Origawa, nor am I in the mood to listen to your ramblings about harming my family. It's true, I have harmed my own daughter, and it's a sin I will forever regret, along with harming my own wife and her children, but unlike you, at least I have remorse for my actions. Now, tell me, do you wish to die here, or do you want to apologize?"_

_The men said nothing._

_Japan's expression somehow got darker when silence answered him. "I a m w a i t i n g f o r a n a n s w e r g e n t l e m e n ," he said darkly._

_The men jumped at Japan's tone. "W-We are sorry, we are so sorry!" they sobbed, collapsing to their knees. "I-It will not happen again!"_

_Japan and America stared down at them, and Japan glanced at America, who gave a slight incline of her head, before he looked back down at the despicable men._

_"Glad we have an agreement. Now, get out of my sight, and do not speak of this again, do you understand?"_

_"Y-Yes."_

_"Good. Now leave my sight."_

The men had ran out of there with their tails between their legs, and America felt warm when she saw Japan defend her and her children, showing a side of him she never thought she would see that was not in a war.

It also helped Japan to become closer to his daughter and stepchildren.

Despite their earlier hesitance to speak to Japan, America's children began to grow fond of Japan after learning of his defense of them. Japan would always make sure that he had time for all of them, even going as far as to learn what Maine's triggers were and how he could help him if neither America or Washington D.C. were around. Maine appreciated the effort, and became good friends with his stepfather.

It was a good feeling, seeing the man she trusted justify her trust in his treatment of her children.

But...

Ever since they got married, it felt like something had changed between them. Now, don't misunderstand, America knew that in arranged marriages, love was never part of the deal, with only a few instances of love coming along between the married couple. Not only that, but America understood that marriage would be the only thing that could help Japan in the long run, and especially create a long-term ally. Still, that didn't change the fact that they were husband and wife.

Things were not supposed to be awkward between them.

Japan seemed to think so too, as he began acting differently than America had known him. For example, he began sitting closer to her than he had before, even attempting to touch her hand once before he stopped himself. He also was blushing more whenever she was nearby, and it was so obvious that all of her children could spot the reason behind it.

America did as well, but that was it.

She didn't love Japan, and she never would.

Her heart already belonged to two others, and no one could ever hope to achieve that. Japan was never there for her while she was growing up, never allowed her shelter from the world she was forced to be a part of, never loved her regardless of her flaws and sins.

America was never an idiot, she knew that Japan had always had a fear of her, especially after what happened with Hiroshima and Nagasaki, events that she would never be proud of, and how that affected their friendship afterwards. While they had gotten better over time, the fear was still there, and America easily spotted it.

They could never be anything more, and that hurt America that she had to do this to her dear friend.

So why?

Why was he coming into her room and into her bed?

America woke up when she heard the door opening and closing, and listened as footsteps quietly approached her bed, before a hand gently tugged on the covers and a body climbed in beside her. America didn't need to be fully awake to know who it was.

"Japan?" she asked groggily. From the flinch, she hit the jackpot. "What's wrong?"

Silence answered her at first, but then a sigh came along. "Nothing," he said. "I am arright."

America turned to face him, still sleepy. "Then why are you here?"

Japan stared at her in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"I mean why are you here? You never liked sharing rooms with other people, so why are you here?"

Japan said nothing once more. Then, once more, he sighed. "I need to get over myserf," he said.

"Hm?"

"I'm tired of being this person Amerika," he said. "I know that you wirr never rove me, I'm not an idiot, you rove another, and I courd never hope to rive up to them."

America stared at Japan, saying nothing.

"I know you onry see me as a friend Amerika, but I want to be so much more. Of course, I can't decide who you rove, just as you have no right to terr me who I shourd rove. Stirr, I just want to know one thing.

"Can you try to rove me, for me? I understand if you wirr be unabre to do it, but prease, can you try to, for me?"

America stared at Japan, stunned. Kiku Honda, the personification of Japan, and a man who couldn't even answer to his own feelings to save himself, was asking her that? Did he understand what he was saying?

He was right though, it would be impossible for her to love him, if ever. They both were only in this for the benefits of their countries, and nothing more. Still...

They were husband and wife.

America smiled tiredly and leaned in to kiss Japan's forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling away and staring at Japan's stunned and red face.

"I'll try Kiku. For you, I will try. You have my word about that."

Getting over himself quickly, Japan smiled at America, a kind, loving smile. "Arigatou Amerika, arigatou."

America smiled back, but deep down, she frowned in sadness.

_I will try Kiku, but if I cannot bring myself to love you the way you want me to, you can hate me as well. I will gladly accept it. Just...don't ever change for anything, okay?_


	40. His American Wife (Mexico) (Part 1)

"Mexico."

America's lips parted as she heard the name, and suddenly she exhaled a breath she didn't know she had been holding in. However, she kept her relief hidden as she addressed her boss.

"Is he around then?"

Her boss shook his head. "No, but I'm taking you wish to speak to him about this arrangement America?"

"Yes sir. I wish to speak to him as quickly as possible about this matter, and the both of us will decide where to go from there."

Her boss nodded. "Of course. That's all."

America nodded back and left, and as soon as no one was watching, she smiled.

~~~

Mexico arrived to Washington D.C. the next day, and was escorted towards America's private quarters, where the maids had prepared some Mexican herbal tea and treats before leaving them together. America noted that her older brother looked nervous as he approached the table she was sitting at, and at a loss of words to address the reason for his visit.

"Hello Diego," greeted America with a warm smile. "Please, sit, and help yourself. I hope they're to your liking."

Mexico jumped a little, but ultimately did as was requested. He said, "Hola, Emilia" before biting his lip once more. America frowned at this.

"Aren't you hungry?" she questioned, and narrowed her eyes when she heard a certain noise. "You didn't have breakfast, did you?"

Mexico flushed. "S-Si, I have." Then his stomach betrayed him, and the blush on his cheeks became more prominent in color.

"Your stomach says otherwise. Now eat, or am I going to have to hand feed you?" America was not afraid of doing the latter if the need came to that, and she had done it before in the past, so that wouldn't be a problem.

"N-No, you don't have to do that!" Mexico was quick to help himself, though he ate slowly. America smiled at him triumphantly, which made her brother pout at her.

But it was time to get to business.

"Mexico, I'm sure you know why you were called here too, right?" she asked.

Mexico ceased eating, and he looked upon his sister with a serious expression. "That's right," he replied. "I am here to discuss a marriage alliance with you, one that can unite our countries and help one another."

"What do you hope to gain from marrying me?" asked America.

"Crime is at an all time high in my country, and I know of only one person who can help me with it for years to come. There's also the fact if our countries ally together through this union, we will not have to worry about the illegal immigration between our countries, and it can also help our countries band together during times of crisis. Of course, I'm not ignorant to the flaws in this plan, and I'm sure you aren't either."

"You're correct, I'm not," admitted America. "Go on."

"I understand that there are tensions between our countries because of said illegal immigration and the level of crime in my country. I also am aware that you are under verbal attacks from many of the other nations, which may threaten war. With our combined numbers, we can hopefully humble the nations by a lot, and I can even grant protection for the states and your people if the need calls for it, while you with mine."

Her brother did have a point. Thanks to the nations' inability to look underneath the underneath, America knew it would only be a matter of time before they did something they would all regret, and perhaps they would try to take her children away for themselves, something she couldn't let happen. She didn't trust them with her life, and that included the well-beings of her children.

Mexico would be a valuable ally to have in times of crisis, and they could help intimidate her enemies when need be, but still, how could she trust him with the safety of her people and children should they proceed with this marriage?

So she asked these very questions, and Mexico didn't appear surprised when she asked them.

"I have no reason to harm your children America, or your people, just as you have no reason to harm my people. My people though are looking forward to this political alliance, for they see this as a way to improve conditions with me, and this could even help increase standards in your country as well. Now, I want to hear your answer America. What do you think you should do?"

America said nothing at first, and she took a sip of her tea, looking graceful to the man sitting across from her. She then placed her cup down on her cup, before looking up to her brother once again.

"I have no reason to refuse, and you make very good points Diego. So, my answer to you is yes, I agree to this alliance, and I see an opportunity to make relations better between us, but I'm afraid there will be a catch."

Diego blinked. "A catch?"

"Yes. After you marry me, we will be expected to live together, bringing our countries together, and our marriage will be announced to the world, which may draw further unwanted attention onto the both of us. There's also our people, who may not be happy with this alliance in the beginning. However, I'm still willing to go along with it, and if you do as well, we will send our answers to our bosses."

Diego nodded, a smile forming on his lips. "Of course. I thank you for your time Emilia."

"You're welcome Diego. Just be safe getting back to Mexico."

~~~

"WHAT?!!"

That was the first thing the nations said when America announced the news, and as she had been expecting this reaction, she didn't flinch, though she did mentally groan at the headache that was now forming in her skull from the sheer volume of that one word.

"You heard me. I said that Mexico and I are arranged to be married on New Year's Day in his country to unite our countries," she repeated.

"He's your brother Amerique!" cried France. "You cannot marry your brother!"

"I'm sorry Mr. Bonnefoy, but it's already been announced that Mexico and I are to be married, and, contrary to what you may think, it's not uncommon for nation brothers and sisters to marry each other, much less have children together. I do not understand why you're so upset about this."

"Do you even know what an alliance with Mexico will do to your country?!" France continued to ask.

"I've thought about it Mr. Bonnefoy, and I know that there are going to be risks in my marrying Mexico, but the benefits are by a lot, so I cannot turn down the offer."

France opened his mouth once again, but nothing would come forth. Defeated, he sat back down, slumping against his seat. America raised an eyebrow at this, but paid it no attention as she turned to address the rest of the room.

"That is all I have to say about the alliance, and if any of you have complaints, take them to my boss or Mexico's, but let me warn you that no matter what you do, the marriage will not be postponed. That is all I have to say." America then sat back down, having done her part for today's meeting, and she waited for the main objective of this meeting to continue, but after a couple of minutes, no one moved to get back on track.

She sighed. This was going to be a long year.

~~~

Surprisingly the year passed quickly, and now America was heading to the airport. Her bags were in the back of her car, and as no one was accompanying her, it was a pretty quiet drive. Before she knew it, the airport was within sight and she parked her car, where she grabbed her bags, locked the doors, and went to get her ticket and seat.

As this was happening, and though she wasn't outwardly showing it, America was nervous. Was she really making the right decision in marrying her brother, which would unify their countries in more ways than one? Would this really be good for the both of them? Would they really be able to help each other in the long run?

America shook her head. It was no use thinking about that now, and there were too many benefits to this marriage. She'll have to cross that bridge when she gets to it.

And that would be when the wedding date finally arrived.

"Please don't make me regret this," she quietly begged before she boarded the plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, Emilia is Mexican for Emily.


	41. His American Wife (Mexico) (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you guys are aware, I'm not completely familiar with Mexican wedding traditions, and the articles I've looked up online weren't of any help either because they varied by a lot, so if this is off, I apologize.
> 
> Oh, and if the Spanish translation is wrong too, I apologize for that as well. There's probably going to be about 4 or 5 parts to each country I arrange America to marry, that way you guys are aware.

America had arrived in Mexico without a problem, and now she was being escorted to her brother's mansion, where she was to spend the night with him before the wedding. She had been to Mexico's mansion a couple of times, and she had to admit that she loved it. Like with her actual homes, Mexico's homes gave her...well, just a homey and safe feeling, something that not very many foreign countries gave off. 

She was very lucky indeed to be married off to a person who actually cared about her. America wasn't sure if she would've been able to handle being the wife of one of the nations who ridiculed her.

But then again it wasn't like they would be marrying for love, and it also wasn't uncommon for America or her children to have a different person they loved, and that wouldn't impact the marriage they would be in. 

She was only in this to benefit her country and keep her people and children safe. Nothing more.

Eventually Mexico's mansion came into view, and America felt herself relaxing at the sight of it. The mansion itself was very simple and yet very beautiful, with its three-floor structure, tan walls, and brown roof tiles. Of course, Mexico himself didn't use much of the space unless it was either for business, to check on his servants, or to celebrate one of his national holidays.

Yes, Mexico's servants and a couple of their families lived with them, mostly because they were homeless and desperately needed jobs. America smiled at the thought of that; even with his current reputation and their people's often poor relations, America still loved how her brother managed to stay strong throughout it all.

He was the strongest of all her siblings, and he got that from their mother.

Their mother. America suddenly wished she was here to see her children get married, and she knew this wasn't something she wanted to miss for the world, but America had a strong feeling that she would.

Still, it wasn't like she was expecting anything else. But she couldn't help wishing for it either way.

Finally, they pulled up to the gates, and the driver got out to open them before getting back in and driving inside. The sound of the palm trees gently rustling in the wind was soothing to America's ears, and she momentarily closed her eyes until the driver returned and proceeded to drive into the driveway of the mansion.

Getting out again, he opened her door.

"Estamos aquí señorita (We're here Miss)," he said to her.

"Gracias (Thank you)," America said graciously as she stepped out and pulled out her luggage, politely declining the driver's help. She then patiently waited for him to turn off the car before allowing him to escort her to the open space of the house, where Mexico was to greet them.

Thankfully they didn't wait long. Almost as soon as they walked into the space, the door across from them opened, revealing the professional figure of her brother, a warm smile on his face as he saw them and walked out to greet them.

"America," Mexico greeted, his voice also warm. "Espero que hayas tenido un viaje seguro (I hope you had a safe trip)?"

America nodded, smiling back. "Yo tengo (I have)," she answered. "¿Cómo te estás haciendo hermano (How are you doing yourself brother)?"

"Haciendo bien (Doing well)." Mexico then turned to the driver. "Gracias por traer a mi hermana aquí. Puedes ir ahora si lo deseas (Thank you for bringing my sister here. You're free to go now if you wish)."

The man bowed his head in respect. "Gracias Señor (Thank you sir)," said the man, and after giving another respectful bow to America, he walked towards his car, got inside it, and drove out of the grounds, the gates closing behind him as he went.

Once he was gone, America turned to her brother, smiling. Mexico smiled back as he held out his arm. "Would you like me to show you around?" he asked.

America raised a teasing eyebrow. "I've been here Mexico, so I should already know my way around."

Mexico smirked back. "I insist."

America faked an exaggerated sigh. "Alright. I thank you sir." She then hooked her arm around Mexico's, her free hand easily holding her luggage, and with that Mexico led her into his mansion.

The interior of the place was exactly as America remembered it the last time she was here; The walls were the exact color of the walls outside, there was extravagant and yet simple furniture in the place, the place was still had an outside appeal to it that looked out into the open space with only an elegant black balcony to keep them from falling off. There were also doors throughout the place that led to various rooms, and America only knew of a few of them. 

Then the brother and sister duo arrived at the latter's given room, which was located in the far side on the second floor. Mexico opened the door, and the room inside was luxurious but simple, just the way America liked it. The bed was large enough to fit two people, there was a vanity table in the corner, a sofa nearby, and a couple of doors that led to a closet and a bathroom respectively.

America walked in. "Thank you Mexico," she said. "This is amazing."

"You like it?" asked Mexico.

"I do. It's very comfortable."

Mexico smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Well, I'll leave you to unpack, I have to get some more work done before the wedding."

"Alright, thank you again Mexico," America stated as her brother left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving her alone.

As soon as that happened, her smile deflated a bit as she moved to unpack.

This was happening. She was here in her brother's home, about to get married to him in a couple days time. America really never thought she would see the day when she would find herself getting married to her brother. But, then again, the future is always uncertain.

She could only hope it was for the better, otherwise she probably not only doomed her country, but also Mexico's.


	42. His American Wife (Mexico) (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, if the wedding traditions are wrong, let me know. Other than that, please bear with me here.

"Es hora de prepararse Señorita (Time to get ready Miss)," called a young maid with black hair that was held up in a neat bun, forest green eyes, and peach skin. It had been a week since America arrived in Mexico, and now the wedding was today. She was so nervous that she was having difficulty breathing on her own, and now she had to focus in order to keep her breathing at a stable pace.

She forced herself to reply. "Okay." She then allowed the young woman to guide her throughout the guest room, where she proceeded to rub a cranberry-scented lotion into her skin, dress her into a long white wedding dress with a frilly skirt that was made with very elaborate silk, placed white flats onto her feet, and finally raise her hair up into an elaborate bun before covering it with a mantilla style veil.

America doubted that a hair was out of place when the maid was done.

"Gracias (Thank you)," she then said to the maid.

"Es un placer, señorita (It's my pleasure Miss)," replied the young woman. "Debemos irnos ahora. No debemos hacer esperar al Sr. Martínez ni a los invitados a la boda (We must go now. We mustn't keep Mr. Martinez or the wedding guests waiting)."

America nodded. "Por supuesto (Of course)."

~~~

No one accompanied her to the location of the wedding, which was just fine with America, as she wanted to be sure to get her bearings before they arrived. The location was a nearby beach, which was an hour's drive away, and where everyone likely was. She continued to focus on keeping herself calm, even chastising herself for acting like this.

_Come on America, _she thought, _you've been through wars and you've had to deal with the nations for years, and yet you're nervous over something like this? Get a grip woman!_

She kept saying this to herself throughout the rest of the ride, and eventually the building where the wedding was being hosted came into sight, and finally America was unable to stop herself from getting nervous and allow a list of embarrassing scenarios run through her mind.

Oh god, what if she tripped?

What if she messed this up?

What if--

The car stopped, and the driver turned to her.

"Estamos aquí señorita (We're here Miss)," he said.

America mentally shook her head to clear it before she answered. "Gracias (Thank you)," she replied, just as the driver got out of the car, walked to her side, opened the door, and helped her out. Nodding to him in thanks again, America slowly walked towards the doors of the building, which opened up for her, allowing her to see inside as she walked in.

Everything, from the table accessories, to the food, to the drinks, and even to the hired musicians were of expensive quality, but that was to be expected. Being that way, both Mexico's and America's presidents offered to pay for everything, and even be the mentors to both country personifications throughout their engagement and marriage. Both Mexico and America accepted of course, in order to avoid suspicions.

And up at the altar, there stood not only her President, his family, Mexico's President and his family, and the priest, but Mexico himself.

Her brother and soon-to-be husband was dressed in a very handsome wedding suit that shone like pure white snow, his untamed but otherwise silky hair was neatly combed and held under a Mexican hat, and he just looked so out of place among these people, but in a really good way. Of course, America always thought that her older brother was handsome, but she never thought that he would be as handsome as he was now.

And she never thought she would be lead by her boss towards Mexico with the intent of being his wife.

She prayed that she would not regret this in the near future.

Finally, she was at the altar, facing Mexico as el lazo was wrapped around their necks, the priest beginning to say his vows. America was only barely listening as she stared at her brother, while he her, and America suddenly wondered if this was a dream.

Was she really getting married to her brother for the sake of their countries?

Was she even really here?

This all just seemed too good to be true.

Then the priest stopped talking, and Mexico presented America with thirteen gold coins, a shy but dutiful smile on his face as he showed his sister and soon-to-be wife how committed he's promising to be to her, how he looks forward to their life together, and how he wishes for the same from her. Holding out her hands, America allowed Mexico to pour the coins into her palms and give her a box for safekeeping.

She couldn't help but smile lovingly at him. She would make sure that she would make this marriage work, even if it killed her.

Then the priest spoke his final words.

"Ahora te pronuncio, esposo y esposa (I now pronounce you, husband and wife)." Then, turning to Mexico, the priest said, "Usted puede ahora besar a la novia (You may now kiss the bride)."

Neither Mexico or America wasted any time. They stepped closer together and placed their lips on the other's, sealing their pact. They kissed long and passionately, neither of them hearing the applause of their audience upon witnessing this event, and when they finally pulled away, Mexico held up a hand to his new wife to guide her to their table, smiling.

Smiling herself, America raised her own hand and placed it on Mexico's, and there they walked down the aisle and towards their table, smiling and nodding to the cheering guests in the process when they lifted up their champagne glasses and the music began to play, allowing some guests to get up and dance the night away.

Mexico and America would be expected to join them eventually.

As soon as they were about to be seated, America threw her bouquet, not waiting to see who caught it when she and her new husband sat down. They raised their champagne glasses to the guests and their mentors, who did the same and proceeded to carry about the night like it was their last.

Mexican culture sure was beautiful, just as any culture in its own way.

"We should hurry and finish these glasses," said Mexico with a smile. "We should join them soon."

America nodded, still smiling. "Of course. Show me how to dance to your tune."

Mexico's grin widened. "My pleasure."

~~~

They partied all night, and now both Mexico and America were back at the mansion, exhausted beyond belief and eager to get to bed. The both of them were rugged from all the dancing and drinking, but they were still happy, which America had not been expecting. But now she was looking forward to life with her brother as her husband now.

Now she would have to wait and see if her children would accept him as their new stepfather, which hopefully wouldn't be too hard.

Then, as soon as they hit the bed together, their veil, hat, and shoes discarded on the floor, they fell asleep, arms around each other.


	43. His American Wife (Mexico) (Part 4)

How many months have passed since her marriage to Mexico? One? Two? Three? Five?

However long, it sure felt like she had been married to her brother for years already.

So much had happened since their marriage had been declared official. After their wedding night, which America had to admit was pleasurable and enjoyable, they had gotten to work on making sure their alliance was worthwhile.

So far, crime rates were starting to degrade, though it would be a long while before it would not be considered a threat to the community, and relations were starting to get better, though things had been rocky at first.

America won't go into details about that, and instead began to focus on the now.

She and Mexico were given a couple months to get settled into their new lives before they appeared before the world once more, as husband and wife. Her children had been very weary around Mexico at first, but it was better than the other nations, and Mexico had been very patient with them, not forcing them to do anything and letting them be themselves.

It wasn't too long after that that his children and stepchildren began to accept him as their father. Now, Mexico was spending as much time with them as he could, as well as his sister/wife.

And here they are, in front of a meeting room full of nations, who were staring at them like they grew another head and a tail. They nodded to them all and took their seats, preparing to announce the progress with the result of their union. To America's confusion though, some of the nations looked heartbroken, but why she couldn't figure out.

Then she mentally shrugged. It didn't matter.

From then on, they discussed the usual problems with the world, and America took notes and even presented her opinion on some things, and when it came time to announce her progress with Mexico, she stood up and went to the front with Mexico not too far behind her.

She took a deep breath before speaking.

"As you may know," she began, "the United States of America and the country of Mexico have united with the promise to help and protect one another only several months ago. Now, I am proud to announce that things are going well with both of our countries, but we still have a long way to go before it becomes permanent.

"Mexico's crime rate is degrading, but it will likely be years before it can be put under control, but Mexico and I are hopeful that it will be accomplished. Protection and increase in military has increased as well, though we were not expecting the latter, and, finally, we are in the process of creating a better economy for both of our countries, and with the hard work and passion being poured into this project, I'm proud to announce that this can be completed within only a few years from now."

It was silent when she was finished, but America paid no attention to this as she let Mexico take the floor. Her brother/husband got her message and confirmed her words were true, and even went on with what he also hopes to achieve in the next few years. When they were done, they once more looked over the nations.

"Any questions?" America asked.

Silence answered her, though a few looked like they did want to say something, but didn't know how to properly word it. Eventually they gave up, allowing America and Mexico to leave the front of the room and sit back down.

The rest of the meeting went on without any other incident.

~~~

Lunch break was announced, and Mexico had left the room already, which was suspicious to America, because as soon as he was about to leave his seat, Canada had stopped him, asking if he could talk to him in private.

Mexico looked reluctant to go, but went anyway for obvious reasons, and America suddenly worried what her ex-brother would do to Mexico.

So, deciding to eat her lunch in a minute, she silently followed them, watching as Canada led Mexico to an empty lounge room and closed the door behind them. America silently walked up to the door, thankful that it wasn't soundproof as she listened in to the men's conversation.

"What did you need to talk about Canada?" asked Mexico.

Canada didn't respond for a moment, but when he did, his voice was so quiet that America had to strain her ears to catch his words. "What happened Diego?"

"Hm?"

"Why did this have to happen?" Canada sounded...sad, full of yearning and so self-hateful, but this made America suspicious all over again.

Mexico said nothing as Canada continued.

"What were you really hoping to achieve by marrying our sister of all people Elsu?" America clenched her fist when Canada used Mexico's birth name.

Mexico's response was an emotionless tone. "My boss and America's boss proposed this marriage Canada," he said. "You know that."

"I do," replied Canada, his own voice now devoid of any feeling. "I may have been a blind fool all these years Elsu, but not anymore. I know you love our sister more than a sister, and I'm wondering if this marriage was also influenced by your need to be with her."

"Maybe, maybe not," said Mexico. "But you're right, I do love Emilia more than a sister. But my question for you is what you're hoping to achieve by announcing this."

Canada went silent at this, and America was about to raise her hand to knock on the door when he responded.

"I'm just worried, that's all."

Mexico remained silent as the other man went on.

"I know Elsu, I've failed as Migisi's brother in more ways than one, and I don't have the right to worry over her like this, but...I can't help it, you know? You were more of a brother to her than I was, but I'm worried about what your marriage will bring upon the both of you.

"The reason I've brought you here...it's because I want to tell you..." Canada took a deep breath. "I want you to take care of each other. Keep each other happy, and make sure that neither of you is alone when times look rough. I want you to protect Migisi and her family, and to have her protect you, the same way she protected her children all these years. There's no one that I know who's more suited for that job than you Elsu, I know America's children will love you, and America will love you, something I failed to do long ago."

It was now silent in the room, and America decided to knock on the door that time. After a moment, Mexico called, "Come in!"

America opened the door and peaked in. She found that her brother/husband was standing close to Canada, almost like he was about to give him a hug, and she quickly said, "Lunch is almost over. I came to warn you so you can eat before the meeting starts back up again."

Both men's eyes widened and they looked at the clock. They only had fifteen more minutes before the meeting would begin again, so they nodded to her and hurried out of the lounge room and back to the meeting hall, where their lunches would be waiting.

America was right behind them, thinking of the men's words all the while. Canada truly sounded regretful of what he had done, and had even requested that she and Mexico look after one another. She nodded to herself, making a vow to keep that promise.

But she would never do it for Canada.

And it seemed that even he knew that.

~~~

It was night time now, and America was in her room, watching the moon outside. She suddenly wondered if _they _would be happy that she had married someone, and the thought that they would treat her differently afterwards made her heart freeze. Of course, she knew she loved Mexico, but she would always love them. She always would, and she didn't want that to change.

Then someone began to approach her bed. "Are you alright?"

It was Mexico. America forced herself to relax before she responded.

"Elsu," she began slowly, "how long were you able to see the other side?"

Mexico paused, and he didn't answer her for a long while. America turned to look at him, finding her brother/husband looking out the window himself now, also at the moon. She began to worry that she may have said something wrong, because Mexico still remained silent, and it was only when she started to panic that he decided to sigh before turning to her.

"Would you believe me if I told you it was during the Mexican-American War?" he asked.

America had to keep herself from flinching. Like many of her people, she too protested against the Mexican-American War, even though she knew that nothing she said would stop her boss and government from going along with it. Most of all, she didn't want to fight her own brother, the only person in her family who stayed by her side even during the darkest of times.

The fact that she had to fight him was still a hard pill for her to swallow.

"Elsu..."

Mexico held up a hand. "You don't need to say anything Migisi, I understand." He smiled gently at her. "I know you didn't want to go through with it, and you would never think of going along with it no matter what happened. Although, I too wish that it never happened like that, that California became a part of you in a more peaceful manner."

America said nothing.

"But it was during that time that I began to see people who were supposed to be dead. My own soldiers actually." Mexico had to pause to take a deep breath, and from how shaky and distant his voice sounded, America knew what he was thinking about. "I didn't understand what was going on at first, but as time went on, I knew that I awakened Madre's powers.

"I kept it a secret from you though, because I had to master them before I told you, but...it seems that wasn't necessary, was it?"

America still didn't answer.

Mexico then sat down on the bed, taking America's hand in his own. "Just know that I don't blame you for what happened Migisi. It's in the past now, and we must focus on the present. Now, why don't you tell me what else you're worried about?"

America smiled sadly. "I was that obvious wasn't I?" she asked.

Mexico just smiled at her in return.

So she told him everything, including the two otherworldly men who watched over her since the day she first awakened her powers and who she fell in love with. She even voiced her fears of them not loving her anymore now that she was married to him. Afterwards, Mexico's grip on her hand tightened a little, and he gently urged her to look at him.

"Emilia," he began, voice still gentle, "if they truly loved you, they would understand your situation and not hold it against you. I know that, and while you are my wife now, I don't mind if you love two other men. In fact, I understand that you will love them more than me, and that's alright with me."

America's eyes widened. "Really?"

Mexico nodded. "Yes. You have my word on that. Always."

America smiled, relieved, and she allowed her brother/husband to hold her hand as the night passed them by in bliss.

Now, she was looking forward to the next centuries of them being together, and couldn't wait to see what will come of this marriage.


	44. His American Wife (Russia) (Part 1)

"Russia."

America suddenly regretted asking that question, while she was torn being cursing herself or even saying "Why am I not surprised?" Of course, she did neither.

Instead she asked, "Why would Russia want a marriage alliance with me?"

"That's what I asked too," began her boss. "Apparently there are some riots that are going on in Russia as a result of the plummeting economy. Now, I'm not sure how this has happened, but the people are growing restless, and Russia has asked for our help."

"So this is a military alliance."

"Basically."

Of course.

"And what are they offering us in return?" asked America.

"Additional military protection from the other nations, and I even detected more power in the mix. As if we need any more." The last part was said in a quiet grumble, but America heard it.

She tried to keep the exhaustion out of her voice when she spoke next. "Did Russia say when he was going to be arriving here in America?"

"No, he didn't, though I believe it's because I haven't given him a proper answer," said the President. "But if I'm guessing, a few days' time if you wish to speak with him."

"I see."

America's boss eyed her. "Do you wish to speak with him?" he asked.

America nodded. "Yes."

"I see." The President reached for his telephone. "I'll let Russia know your answer and we'll decide what to do from there."

"Thank you sir. Is that all?"

"Yes, you may go now."

America bowed her head before she walked out of the room, and as soon as the doors closed behind her, her frown appeared.

What game was Russia trying to play? He was a prideful man, not more so than most of the European and a select few Asian nations of course, but still prideful in his own way. He never kept it a secret that he enjoyed toying with America in the past, and even back when he didn't know of her true personality. And as soon as she heard his name fly from her boss' mouth...

What this just his scheme to get closer to Alaska? America shook her head, doubting it, but she refused to underestimate the bigger nation, whose mental state was already questionable as it was.

But she may as well talk to him to see if what her boss said was true.

First, she needs to prepare a room for him.

~~~

A few days passed, and now America was standing at the entrance to the White House, waiting for the limousine carrying Russia to arrive. She was wearing a black sleeveless dress with long black gloves and the matching strap heels, and she had a pearl necklace around her neck. She stood there elegantly when she finally saw the vehicle she was looking for approach the front, stopping just next to her.

The car door opened, and out walked Russia, who was surprisingly wearing a suit and tie that hugged his broad figure perfectly.

This was the first time that America had ever seen the older nation wearing anything but his prized coat and scarf.

"Privet Vanya (Hello Russia)," greeted America.

"Privet Amerika," Russia greeted back, walking around the vehicle to approach her, his footfalls making a rhythmic "click-clack". America watched him for any sign of foul play, but found nothing, at least at the moment.

She led him into the building.

"I hope you had a comfortable trip?" she asked during the walk.

"Da, it wasn't comfortable, but it was manageable," Russia replied. He stayed silent for a moment. "I'm sure you know why I'm here da?"

"Yes," America replied. "But let's get to our destination first, and then we can talk."

From the way Russia fell silent, he agreed.

The room America had prepared for Russia was located close to her own room, and she made sure that the gardeners brought in some sunflowers to help Russia feel at ease. It was also nearly eight in the morning here in D.C., so she made some kasha (which is a kind of Russian porridge made from different grains), fried eggs, and some coffee. Of course, to her relief, Russia loved black coffee, also without sugar, which made America's job for the morning a little easier.

Not that she would have a problem making a different kind of coffee for her guest anyway.

When they entered, America could sense Russia's surprise at the sight before them, but chose to continue towards it. After sitting down, she motioned for Russia to join her.

"Sit," she urged. "I know you didn't have breakfast this morning, so I decided to make some for you."

It was satisfying seeing the surprise on Russia's face, and this was Russia she was talking about, who rarely showed anything other than amusement or nothing at all. The man didn't even bother to compose himself as he sat down across from America, quietly thanked her for the meal, and began to eat, America following him.

The kasha was Alaska's favorite breakfast meal, so America had a good idea of what to make when Russia arrived, and she was glad that Russia didn't request that she have made something else. Either that, or he was keeping this feelings to himself out of politeness, which America sincerely doubted.

Russia was very selective about who he showed respect to.

After taking a sip from her coffee, America spoke up again. "Why don't we get down to business Mr. Braginski?" she requested. "You wanted to speak about this possible alliance, don't you?"

Russia glanced at her. "Da," he answered. "I'm sure your boss has informed you of what is going on?"

"I don't know the full story," America admitted, "but that's mostly because your boss was not providing much detail, but we know enough. Your economy's plummeting, and the people are growing restless, correct?"

"Da."

"Tell me Mr. Braginski, I want to hear from your own words why you would want a marriage alliance with me. You did suggest a strengthened military, but you didn't mention a strengthened economy."

"That's right." Russia took a sip from his coffee before he continued. "My boss believes that an alliance with your country can strengthen our military, which I agree with as both our militaries can learn things from each other and provide support for each other, and I have brought up the economy with him. He is hoping that this alliance will allow increased trade in order to help calm the people and feed their families."

America nodded, understanding the man's reasoning. The military and economy shouldn't be a problem if they proceeded with this, but...

"But what are you offering us in return, other than the increased military and protection?" she asked.

"Isn't that enough for you?" questioned Russia with a raised eyebrow.

"You guarantee protection for my country, but what about during the marriage? How do I know that you don't have something else in mind?"

Russia actually looked offended after hearing that. "Do you really think that low of me Amerika?" he asked.

"That depends," answered America. "Now, I want you to tell me what you think you're doing."

Russia's eyebrow raised. "I don't follow you comrade."

"How do I know that you won't try to harm my children?"

Now Russia's eyebrows furrowed in surprise. "You really think I'm that low Amerika?"

"I never said that."

"Nyet, but you suggested it." Russia stared hard at America. "Believe me when I say this comrade; I'm not low enough to harm a child, especially my own daughter. I don't care that I have not been in her childhood, or that I was a different man back during the Cold War, I would never harm a child, not even if it killed me."

America narrowed her eyes, but didn't say another word. The last thing she wanted to do was argue with the older nation, who held just as much power as she. She did not want another war on her hands and, clearly, neither did Russia.

"Alright," she said slowly, "I'll believe you for now, but tell me, what else are you hoping to obtain? Answer me this Mr. Braginski, and I will make my decision."

Russia stared at her for a few moments before he answered. "All I want is to help my people Amerika, and I'm willing to sell my own body to obtain their safety and happiness if I need to, like I'm doing now. I do not care if you don't trust me, but I am coming to you because I wish to help my people before a civil war breaks out, and you're the only one who can help me. And like I have said before, I can offer you and your children protection from the other nations if the need ever came for that. Now tell me, what will you decide?"

America didn't answer right away as she thought over the man's words. She had to admit that he had a point; in the end, he was just looking out for his people, and was willing to do whatever it took to ensure their safety, just like with her with her people and family. That much she could understand, and the military and economy thing did sound helpful.

She silently sighed. "We will go through with this marriage then. I can see no reason to say no, but I warn you Mr. Braginski"--She glared at him--"if you even _think_ of hurting my children, I will end you, consequences be damned."

Russia didn't look surprised, in fact he looked pleased when he spoke next. "I'll hold you up to it Amerika." He then stood up, leaving his empty plate and cup. "Thank you for the meal by the way."

America nodded in thanks, watching as Russia walked out the door, and wondering what the hell she had just gotten herself into.


	45. His American Wife (Russia) (Part 2)

America was contemplating whether to punch herself in the face or jump out the nearest window.

It had been a few days since she had made her decision, and every second of every day felt like Hell. And still she wasn't sure if she was regretting her decision or what, but it was horrible.

America did not trust Russia, not one bit. That man was older than her, which meant that he had seen more shit than most, probably as much as she did, and he even lost the woman he loved, the Princess Anastasia, far too early. If Russia hadn't already been fucked up in the head before, the death of the princess only worsened it, especially when the Cold War came along, turning allies, friends, and even families against each other.

And America was no fool to another thing: Although Russia agreed to give away the Alaskan territory, she saw the expression on his face when she and a few of her government officials arrived to claim it. The man was a ticking time bomb, just waiting to designate, and it was so obvious that both the American officials and even Russia's own allies were weary, although they did a good job at concealing it.

America knew, right then and there, that if Russia knew of his daughter's existence, he would've stopped at nothing until he had her under his thumb. He was a cruel Communist, and he would force Alaska to be subjected to the harsh conditions the Russian people were forced under when Joseph Stalin was in power. Hell, America knew that Stalin himself would parade Alaska around like a trophy, treating her as if she were an object instead of a living being who had feelings.

Her own father wouldn't have stopped him either, wouldn't have even put up a fight.

Russia was lying to himself, this America also knew. He knew full well that he killed plenty of children during his years as a country, and America knew she had to, every country has, and her own children had been forced to do so, either out of self-defense or under orders of their bosses. It was something America hated to admit, but she knew it wouldn't do her any good to run from the truth. Russia should know that too, but instead he denied it right in her face.

He was still a time bomb, and it wouldn't matter if she agreed to this marriage or not. This could either end badly or good, and America hoped with all of her soul that it wouldn't be the former.

As America tried to figure out what to do, she found herself thinking of her children, and a new worry overcame her.

How was she going to tell her children this? How was she going to tell Alaska this? She knew her children had no problem with Russia, but they sure as Hell didn't trust them with their lives. Russia proved on more than one occasion to be just as powerful (and just as cunning) as their mother, and that scared them, especially Alaska.

America groaned in misery. She prayed to Mother Gaia for strength, that she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life by going along with this, and that Russia wasn't going to do anything that could get them all in trouble or, worse, killed.

She needed strength more than she ever had in her life now, that was for sure.

~~~

A music box played in the room as America sat by the fire, waiting patiently for Russia to arrive at the mansion. Around her, a few of her children sat, reading books, sewing, listening to music, typing on their computers, writing, or even sleeping depending on who they were.

To her surprise, after receiving her answer, it was agreed that Russia would be sent to America for the marriage, and America had been fully expecting it to be otherwise. After all, the problems were in Russia, so surely she would've been expected to go over there.

That meant one less headache, but America still didn't like this.

She had spent the majority of the week preparing Russia's room, and her children had been ballistic as of late. Many of them had been doing physical activities or what other things they enjoyed best in order to get their minds off the fact that their mother was marrying one of their most distrusted allies. Hell, even Alaska wasn't taking this well, for she had been all over the house about three times now, getting close to her fourth time now, and America knew that not even she could calm her down.

She feared what their house was going to be like when Russia finally arrived, but at least her children managed to keep themselves together, for now anyway.

Then they all heard it: the sound of a car pulling up into the driveway. Almost instantly, everyone got into position.

"Remember, behave yourselves," America warned. "Mr. Braginski is our guest, and we must make sure his stay here is comfortable. Is that clear?"

"Yes Mother."

"Yes Mama."

"Oui Maman."

"Si Madre."

"Da Mama."

"ʻae Makuahine."

America nodded with a smile before walking towards the door and opening it. As expected, a limousine was outside, and Russia was walking out of the back, moving to obtain his luggage. Seeing America, he nodded in greeting.

"Privet Amerika."

"Good evening Russia," America greeted back. "Would you like some help?"

"That would be nice da."

America was quick to walk down the steps and assist Russia with his luggage, motioning for him to follow her inside afterwards. Inside, the smell of food was apparent, but the only one at the entrance was Alaska, Hawaii, and Texas, who all had welcoming smiles on their faces that easily hid their discomfort.

"Good evenin' sir," greeted Texas, tipping his hat.

"Privet Russia," greeted Alaska.

"Hello Mr. Russia," greeted Hawaii.

Russia nodded to the states. "Good evening to you."

Texas then turned to America. "Mama?" he called. "Do ya need us to do anything?"

"You can help your siblings," America suggested. "I'm going to show Mr. Braginski to his room."

"Alright, come on little ladies." Texas gently pushed his youngest half-sisters towards the living room and kitchen, where most of the activity was taking place. Russia watched them go with an easy-going smile.

"You seem very busy," he commented.

"We try to stay busy when we get bored," America admitted. "It's something that's helped us have something to do over the years."

"I see." Russia sounded...strange, but America couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly, only that it seemed to be in between interest, concern, and even a little sadness, and that confused her.

She didn't pay much attention however as she led the older nation to his room. His room was going to be located on the second floor, which happened to be where her own room was located, and America chose this floor because she would be able to keep a closer eye on Russia in case he decided to do something he wasn't supposed to.

Of course, America doubted that Russia would do something in a house full of around fifty-two people, but she was not taking chances, because those other fifty-one were her children.

Finally they arrived, and America unlocked the door with a key. Upon opening the door, she heard Russia quietly inhale sharply at the sight of his room.

His room was spacious, smelled of sunflowers, had books, simple colored wallpaper and rugs, and America even added sunflowers in a vase by the bed. When she looked at Russia, America saw that said man looked shocked and happy all at once, and she placed his luggage by his bed.

"Dinner will be ready soon Mr. Braginski," she announced, walking over to him. "And the key is yours now, so make sure you don't lose it."

Russia quickly snapped out of his stupor, and smiled at America. "Thank you comrade. I look forward to dining with you."

America nodded before leaving the room, and once the door closed behind her and she was walking down the hall, she prayed things would not end bad.

She could only hope, could she?

~~~

"WHAT?!"

That was the first thing the nations said when America announced the news, and beside her, Russia kept smiling, seeming to find amusement in the nations' horror. America, on the other hand, just raised an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong gentlemen?" she asked.

"Is something wrong?" repeated England. "You damn well know something's wrong woman! You're marrying Russia of all people!"

"And?"

"And--" England stopped, trying to find something to say before he did. "You can't marry him America. This spells disaster for the world, and for the both of you."

"I know that."

"You--what?"

"I already know, and even still I agreed to this marriage. Now I've made my bed, so I have to lie in it."

That deflated England, and he slumped back in his chair, defeated. America didn't understand why the man was acting like he cared, in fact she didn't understand why the nations were acting like they were, but ignored it. It wouldn't change the decision she made.

She just prayed that this was the right decision, and that she wasn't signing her country's death warrant by doing this.


	46. His American Wife (Russia) (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if the wedding traditions are wrong, let me know.

Months passed since Russia arrived, and now the wedding day was getting closer and closer. America dreaded the day, and it only grew as each day passed.

Since the day Russia came, he had been on his best behavior, and even treated the states with respect, but America was still weary. He had been spending a lot of time with Alaska, and this was always when another of Alaska's siblings or America herself was around.

Just what was his motive?

Was he trying to get on her good side in order to get what he wanted? Or did he truly care about being in his daughter's life? America didn't know, but she didn't trust Russia alone with any of her children.

And it didn't matter if he had been here for months.

During that time though, America and Russia had been hard at work planning for the wedding. In the end, it had been decided that they were to have a Russian wedding, complete with their own best men and bridesmaids, who would happen to be the states themselves, mostly because they didn't want to waste money on people they don't even know and the states didn't want to leave their mother alone with Russia of all people.

Their wedding attires had already been bought, with America's dress being of a simple design with a simple pearl tiara and a bouquet of lilies, and Russia's was the same, except he would have a white rose pinned to the jacket.

Russia had even hired a toastmaster, which would be required at a Russian wedding such as this, and bought two gold wedding rings. According to the Russian wedding traditions, the couple would exchange rings during the wedding ceremony, and the ceremony itself would go on for about a week depending on the wedding. To America's relief though, the wedding would be shortened to two days.

A long two days America thought.

With the day approaching faster than before, America began to pray again that things would end well, and on the night of the wedding, she prayed to any god and spirit nearby to give her strength.

_Please, don't let this end badly,_ she prayed. _Don't let it end badly._

~~~

It was time.

America was just finished getting ready. Louisiana, Arkansas, North and South Dakota, and Virginia were helping their mother get ready for the past two hours, and each second felt excruciating. It didn't matter if she had to get dressed like this in the past, and even helped her daughters into their own dresses. This was a different thing altogether, and it was nerve-wracking as all Hell.

Arkansas tapped his mother's arm. "Compose yourself Mama," he ordered. "You'll ruin the makeup!"

America smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

The dress seemed to fit her perfectly, though that was Louisiana and Arkansas alright. The white fabric hugged her figure, also being careful to keep itself modest, and the skirt barely trailed on the ground. Her already curled hair was styled to look gorgeous and regal, and the pearl tiara looked like it had been made just for her. Her eye-shadow was a sky blue, bringing out the color of her own eyes, and the blush in her cheeks looked natural. Thankfully she wouldn't be wearing any lipstick, for she did not want to get any on her teeth or on Russia.

She didn't want to give him the privilege yet.

Her daughters and son looked at her, smiling. "You look beautiful Mother," said Virginia.

America smiled. "Thank you dear. I do feel beautiful, thanks to our little artists over here." She sent a smile in Arkansas and Louisiana's direction, who blushed in response.

"Oh Maman, we are still learning," denied Louisiana. Arkansas nodded in agreement.

America had to keep herself from snorting in amusement. Those two were still so humble; it was a nice thing to see. It told her that she had raised them right.

Then North and South Dakota had their arms around their mother, making the woman go stiff in surprise before relaxing.

"Good luck out there Mama," said North.

"Show him how lucky he is," added South.

America smiled and patted the twins on the head. "I will girls. I'm going to need it, and let's hope I don't trip over the dress in these heels."

"Please don't," said Arkansas. "I spent a week making that dress for you Mama."

The girls just giggled.

~~~

The wedding was going to be taking place in a nearby church, and from what America learned, Russia's boss and a few of their government officials would be attending, as well as America's boss, his family, and a few government officials. The toastmaster would also be brought in from Russia, and America felt her anxiety grow, wishing that nothing embarrassing or bad would happen during the next two days.

Before she knew it, she was in front of the church, and the door was being opened for her.

America got out, thanked the driver, and walked up towards the church doors, her daughters behind her. The church doors opened, and as she walked in, bouquet of flowers in hand and the organ music starting at her entrance, she saw him.

Russia.

America had to keep herself from gaping when she saw the older nation at the altar, the priest next to him. He was wearing his expensive wedding suit, arms behind his back, and a white rose pinned on his chest. His silver hair was combed back, and he had a welcoming smile on his face when he saw America approach.

She suddenly felt that smile was hiding something more pleasant, but America wasn't so sure.

Everyone stood up as she began to approach the altar, while America was desperately trying to keep herself from showing her own awkwardness and worry. Thankfully, she got to Russia's side without any mishap, but due to neither couple having any parents, the wedding was allowed to continue, and once he had everyone's attention, the priest began the next part of the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to..." His words slowly muted when America lost herself in her mind.

This was it. The day she had been worried about for months. She was now here, about to get married to Russia, a former empire and communist, and the father of her youngest daughter. This was a man who she did not see as a friend, someone she did not trust with her life, and someone who also was easily fooled by her facade.

She was not doing this out of love, but out of duty, so why? Why did she feel so empty? So disappointed?

"Ivan Braginski, do you accept Emily F. Jones as your wife?" The priest's words brought America back to reality, and she had to keep herself from flinching to attention as a result.

Russia looked into her eyes. "I do," he replied, holding out his hand. Knowing the custom, America placed her right hand in his, watching as he placed a gold ring on her ring finger. It fit perfectly, and the precious metal shined in the light of the church.

"And do you, Emily F. Jones, accept Ivan Braginski as your husband?" asked the priest.

America slowly took a deep breath, then held out her hand. "I do," she answered, watching as Russia gave her his hand, and she placed a matching gold ring on his ring fingers, watching as the jewelry slid onto it and embraced the curves of the finger.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife!" announced the priest, before looking at Russia. "You may kiss the bride."

America took a deep breath before walking towards her new husband, allowing him to place his lips on hers. She barely heard the claps of the wedding attendants as she tried not to recoil from Russia, who was kissing her like a man drowning. Then, before she knew it, he pulled away, and began to lead her down the steps to the dance floor.

"To the newly wedded couple!" cried the toastmaster, holding up his glass of champagne.

"To the newly wedded couple!" repeated the crowd, also holding up their glasses before taking a sip. America tried not to blush at the attention as Russia led her to the middle of the dance floor.

As soon as they got there, the music started up, upbeat, fun, and melodic, and Russia and America were the first ones to start dancing. Almost like a ball in a castle, Russia led his new wife across the dance floor, hand on her waist, the other holding her hand, while America's free hand was against his strong chest. Almost against her will, America found herself smiling and on the verge of laughing, while Russia looked like he was having the time of his life, so genuine that it stunned America.

It wasn't long before other dancers joined them, dancing, drinking, eating, just having the time of their lives. Among the crowd, America saw her children also having fun, though she could tell that they were a little caught off guard by this.

America felt relieved by this. Her children were happy, not scared, worried, or what not. It was nice to see this.

"I promise Amerika." Russia's voice brought America's attention back to him. "I will make this work. Just you wait."

America just stared at him in bewilderment for the rest of the day, and the day after. Did she hear right? Did he really mean it?

She was suddenly scared to believe it.


	47. His American Wife (Russia) (Part 4)

It was many months later after their wedding, and now America was wondering if her worries had been for naught.

So far, nothing bad had happened between her and her new husband, but America knew without a doubt that she would never come to love this man, not as much as she did _them_. This was an arranged marriage after all, and love was mostly never a part of the deal. Russia probably knew this too, despite never actually saying anything. Not only that, but after their wedding night, they didn't sleep in the same bed after that.

Of course, they still shared the same room, but never the same bed. That was fine with America; She didn't want to feel the presence of someone else in her bed, someone she didn't love or trust, and clearly Russia felt the same.

Still, America couldn't deny that there had been something comforting in the way Russia would sleep in the bed across from her, his upper body exposed for all to see and his silver hair tousled in his sleep. She will admit that that was attractive, but it never made her blush.

No, that was for them, and them alone. They earned it, and Russia didn't. He may be her husband now, but she could never love him.

America suddenly felt like the worst piece of trash in all the world for feeling like this, but she knew she wouldn't be able to stop.

After all, how can you love someone who could easily turn from friend, to enemy, and back again in such a short time? America wasn't one of those people.

And she'd be damned before she did.

Still, she hadn't agreed to marry one of her worst enemies for nothing, and, for the sake of her children and country, she was damn well going to make this work, even if it was just by a little bit.

She felt that that was all she could do.

~~~

It was quiet at the mansion now that night had fallen and the states have gone to bed. It was spring break here in the states, for college students specifically, and America had done her best to relax after a long day at work. It was the week before that when she and Russia announced to the other nations to results of their marriage.

So far, things were going well, as Russia's economy was growing stronger and better than before, and their armies followed suit. Just as Russia promised, both militaries were learning from each other, giving each other clues on how to improve in certain areas and how they can make each other stronger. America knew she wasn't going to have to worry about national protection if it ever came to it.

But there were some milestones. For one, citizens from both countries were concerned on the other with this alliance (of course they didn't know about the marriage itself), and were weary of it. For another, it wasn't a secret that both American and Russian citizens had different views on each other, views that were often condescending and ones that only increased after the alliance. Thankfully, both were put under control quickly and easily, both it was still going to be awhile before both countries could grow easy around each other.

And America could see that it was going to be awhile indeed.

Russia happened to be in the room with America. "You're unhappy," was all he said. His smile was gone from his face, his scarf and coat were discarded in the closet, and he was now wearing nothing more but his pajama pants, showing his muscular upper torso.

As well as his rows upon rows of scars.

The scars were what drew America's attention most; they either ranged from previous stab wounds, burns, bullet wounds, and others. The burn scars forced her to remember Daniel's burn scars, which were more horrific to look at, and it was always a struggle on her part to not burst out crying every time she saw them, much with how Bernard would go ballistic whenever he saw them.

The face scars that Daniel put up before the nations was tame compared with his real scars. In reality, he used a magical cover to hide his real face, showing others the man he would've grown up to be had the Burning of Washington not occured. The burns were so severe that the skin couldn't repair itself, and it left Daniel with a face that was so burnt that the muscle, tissue, and bone were shown for all to see. Hell, even his eyeball seemed to protrude out out of its socket.

But no one but Daniel's family needed to know that about his face.

America forced herself to stop thinking about it so she could answer Russia's statement. "Yes," she replied.

"And why are you unhappy?"

America didn't answer.

Russia sighed before he walked towards America, stopping once he reached a respectful distance (not counting his own standards).

"Is this about our marriage?" he asked.

America shrugged.

"That's not an answer comrade." Russia did not sound impressed when he said this. "Now, tell me the truth, da."

God damn it Russia, why couldn't you just leave things as they were?

America sighed. "How'd you know?"

"It was written all over your face comrade, had been for some time now." Russia looked at her, hard. "Tell me America, are you unhappy?"

"Not completely."

"Then what is wrong?"

America didn't answer once more. How could she tell this man that she had the potential of being stuck in a loveless marriage, especially since she loved _them_, and always would? She knew it wouldn't matter if this marriage was loveless, for it was arranged, and she had promised herself to them, the men that Russia didn't need to know about, men that the nations as a whole didn't need to know about.

They would all just think she was crazy anyway, more so than she already was, just like with England when it came to his magical friends. But still, maybe Mexico would believe her, for he was their mother's son, and his powers should've awakened a long time ago.

Russia's footsteps brought her out of her thoughts, and America turned to find that the taller nation had his hand out to her. She looked up at him, confused and suspicious.

"Come with me?" asked Russia. A kind smile was on his face now, so full of understanding that America was caught off guard. Instinctively, she took his hand, and without a word, he led her out of their room and towards the ballroom, being careful to not wake up the states when they passed by their doors.

Over the last couple of months, America had watched as Russia spent time with Alaska, respecting her privacy and her reluctance to speak to him on friendly terms. He did the same with his other stepchildren, and when they asked to be left alone, he left.

Stepchildren...the word felt weird in her mouth, and America didn't know if it was a good or bad feeling.

When they reached the ballroom, Russia didn't let go of America's hand, not even when he pushed the doors open with his free hand. Once they were open, they walked in, and Russia closed the doors behind him with a click, before turning to face her.

It was weird, standing in the ballroom with a pajama-clad Russia, while she was in her nightgown. It felt weird, and America suddenly wished that they were wearing more appropriate outfits for what they were going to do next.

Of course, America knew what Russia was asking when he looked at her.

"Dance with me?" he asked.

America stared at him for a moment. "Of course." She then allowed him to wrap her up in his arms and proceed to move her across the room, the moon shining on them.

No music played, but the sounds of the night were enough for the two of them, and America found herself imagining that blue moon dust was swirling in the air around them, sparkling in the moonlight, and that the smell of pine, silver, and other moon-like scents were in the air. Of course, there was none, but that didn't stop her from imagining.

Russia was a really good dancer. Like, inhumanly good, which is something that he could only have perfected by being around for centuries at a time. He was graceful, careful, and precise, confident in his movements, and he made sure that his wife was kept securely in place while they danced to an unknown melody.

There was also the emotion in their dance too. Clearly Russia was imagining her as someone else, someone who died a long time ago, who met an unfortunate end with the rest of her family, and someone who many people believed survived that horrible night, until it was proved otherwise.

America suddenly sympathized with her husband, and she knew then, especially as soon as they stopped dancing, that they understood each other perfectly, no matter how different their situations had been.

She had been a fool. A goddamn fool.

After they stopped dancing, Russia held on to America for a few seconds before finally letting her go, bowing to her. In response, she curtsied and said, "Thank you Russia."

Russia shook his head. "Don't thank me," he said, his voice low with sorrow. "I understand Amerika, truly I do. You will never love me, and I don't think I could ever truly love you, not as much as I did her."

America smiled sadly. "She must've been a wonderful girl."

"Da, she was," Russia said, smiling sadly himself. "I wish everyone, and not just me, had got to know her. She was never afraid of me, not even when she saw me for the first time after she was born. She was so tiny, so delicate, so...pure. I didn't want to taint her with my presence, so I kept my distance as best I could. But she...she wanted to know me, the real me, and cared about how I felt."

Russia chuckled bitterly. "I never thought that I would fall in love, especially with a human of all things. But I did, and I found myself loving everything about her, her laugh, her smile, the way she looked at me. I even loved her imperfections; to me, they were like priceless jewels, and when I lost her, I thought I would die with her."

America stayed silent, listening.

"Believe me when I say this Amerika," Russia continued, "I know you don't trust me; after all, we never had a good start, and I gave you no reason to care about me as a person. However, even though we are now married, I don't know if I will ever come to love you as I did with my Anastasia, and I know that you will never come to love me the way you do with whoever holds your heart. But please, can we at least try, not just for our sake, but for our daughter? That's all I ask comrade."

America didn't respond at first. She first began to think over his words, knowing that she understood everything he had just told her. They may not be able to love each other through their marriage, but they can respect each other. She also knew without a doubt that Alaska needed her father in her life, that her children needed some kind of father figure in their lives. Now that she was married to Russia, America knew she could finally give her children the father they lacked, even if they didn't trust him.

It was the only thing she could provide for them.

"Okay," she answered. "I can promise you that I will try."

Russia smiled again, all traces of sorrow gone. "Спасибо (Thank you)," was the whispered reply.


	48. His American Wife (Spain) (Part 1)

"Spain."

America blinked, wondering if she heard her boss correctly.

"I beg your pardon sir?" she asked.

The President winced, as if he had been wishing she would not ask. "I said that it was Spain who requested this marriage alliance."

America blinked again, and if this had been one of Japan's animes, she would have question marks floating over her head, and, by the way her boss was looking at her, he was thinking the same thing.

"...Did he say as to why he wanted this?" she then asked.

"You know of how low the economy is in Spain right now?" Upon America's nod, the President continued. "Well, it turns out it is growing worse than we thought it would, and riots are happening as a result. The people are very desperate to get themselves and their families fed, and it's also starting to affect the royal family too."

America winced. "Oh good god...but how does Spain think that we will be able to help him with this?"

"I'm sure you're aware of how low our population has gone, yes? Well, it's thanks to that that our economy has grown much better than ever before, and according to Spain and the King, we have the resources needed to fix the economic problems."

America opened her mouth, but the President held up a hand. "There's a reason why they're asking for a marriage alliance instead of a different one, and it's because of the other problems that are rising up as a result of the economy. Some of the other countries are attempting to take advantage of Spain and perhaps take it over, and having a temporary alliance will only mean that they will still take advantage of the country when they're left vulnerable."

"So marrying me secures protection for Spain and his people," America clarified.

"That's correct."

America pondered, understanding her boss' words, but not liking them. Of course, Spain was one of the nations that was never directly cruel to her throughout the centuries, but at the same time he did nothing to stop it. As a result, America was never close to him, and that was saying something considering the fact that she hated him as much as her mother did for allowing the massacre of so many of Mexico's native people.

She has not forgiven him for that, don't forget that.

She also thought to why Spain did not go to other countries for this kind of alliance, then understood. There weren't that many female countries, and in some other countries, a person marrying someone of the same gender would be considered taboo, and may only lead to further problems. Not only that, but the female countries that were out there would not be powerful enough to ward off the threat of the other countries taking over, and there was only one that could.

America sighed to herself, praying she would not regret this decision.

"So what are you going to do?" asked her boss, looking at her with patient eyes.

America said nothing at first, and she took that moment to sigh mutely and look out the windows, where the gardens gently moved with the weak breeze.

"I'd like to speak to Mr. Fernandes in person if that's alright," she said. "After that, I will make a decision."

The President nodded and reached for the phone. "That can be arranged America."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, you can go now."

With a curtsy, America walked out of the office, closing the door behind her as her boss prepared to phone the King of Spain. Left alone at last, America walked towards the guest quarters of the White House to prepare one of the rooms for Spain's arrival.

All the while, she prayed she wasn't making a big mistake.

She really needed to speak to Mexico about this after she was done too.

~~~

America was thankful that it was warm outside, otherwise she would've gladly stayed inside the White House as she waited.

It was a nice day too, no wind, not a cloud in the sky, and again it was warm. So America had no reason to not be outside as she waited for Spain to arrive.

For that, America was wearing a white dress, complete with a matching belt, black heels, a pearl necklace, white gloves, and even had her hair gelled, making the natural waves of her hair appear like waves of grain from afar.

Eventually, she saw the gates leading to the White House open, and a black limousine coming towards her. The gravel crunched loudly the closer the vehicle got, even after it stopped next to America. Then the driver stepped out and walked towards the back, opening it and allowing a man with tan skin, messy dark brown hair, bright green eyes, and a suit to step out.

This was the man who fathered four of her children, who looked exactly like California.

Antonio Fernandes-Carriedo. The personification of Spain.

America plastered a welcoming smile on her face. "Hola Señor Fernandes, I take it your trip went well?"

Spain smiled at her, but even as he did so, America could tell how tired he looked. There were dark bags under his eyes, and she also spotted some tremors in his form, looking similar to a leaf in the wind that was about to collapse. America felt her lips purse for a brief moment.

It seems the situation was more dire than she thought.

She kept her smile on her face as she spoke up. "Follow me Señor Fernandes," she persuaded. "Your luggage will be taking to your room shortly."

"Gracias."

America then turned around and walked up towards the White House, Spain not too far behind her. Faintly, she heard the footman work on getting the luggage situated, but she didn't turn around to check.

The walk was silent, but America supposed that Spain didn't mind, for he was too tired to even attempt to speak at this time. Suddenly she wondered if he had breakfast.

Well, it wasn't like she had the maids make anything big for breakfast anyway.

Finally, they arrived to the room America prepared, and once they walked inside, Spain took a moment to take in his surroundings. The room in itself was small, but there were bookshelves containing books of various languages, a table, a large bed, and a balcony that overlooked the gardens. On the table near it, there was a tray that contained their breakfast food and drinks.

America walked over to it. "I hope you're hungry," she said, "and I hope you don't mind Ensaimadas."

Spain smiled weakly again. "It is fine señorita." He then moved to sit down across from her, taking one of the two cups of cafe con leche as well as one of the sweet buns before taking a sip of the former.

Soon America followed Spain's example, taking a small bite of the ensaimada and savoring its sweet taste. This was always her favorite Spanish breakfast food to have whenever she was visiting Mexico, though it had been an interesting experience concerning the food customs. America always wondered why many people would have some sweets for breakfast, but soon brushed it off as some of her citizens often have sweets for breakfast unfortunately. Hell, even a few of her children attempted to sneak some sweets for breakfast when they were younger.

Though after America caught them in the act, let's just say they never did it again.

After taking a sip of her cafe con leche, America spoke up.

"I'm sure you are aware of why I've called you here, correct?"

Spain paused before nodding. "Si," he said, "and I believe your boss has told you the details?"

"Yes," said America with a nod. "I did not expect the situation to be this out of control, and I cannot blame you for attempting this drastic measure."

Spain seemed to deflate, but America held up a hand.

"I just want to know a few things before I make my decision Señor Fenandes. What are you hoping to offer me if I do become your wife? I guarantee that you will be protected from the other countries, but I do not know what you are offering me in return."

Spain's cheeks seemed to flush for some reason, but he replied. "I am offering to be an ally," he said. "I also offer protection for your own country after I regain my strength, something that I'm aware you need as well."

America frowned at Spain's words. He wasn't wrong, for after her population dwindled significantly, other countries had been hoping to obtain some of those resources for their own populations, and it had been a headache refusing each one, saying that their problems were not her concern at this time.

This, of course, led to her being accused of selfishness, but America shrugged them off, saying, "I'm not being selfish, I just refuse to be your babysitter over these matters. It's time that you make your own decisions rather than come to me for them."

That had shut them up thankfully, and America never heard from them since.

But this?

Spain was right. Despite the countries backing off, who knows when they might try again?

America took another sip from her cup before looking up at Spain. "Alright, I have made my decision; I will go through with this alliance, but I warn you Spain"--America's eyes went wide, a red color circling her pupils--"if you prove to be a threat to my country or my children, nothing will stop me from wiping you off the face of the earth, is that clear?"

Spain jumped, and a look of hurt appeared in his gaze for a brief moment before it disappeared. "Yes, I understand señorita."

America relaxed her expression. "Good, now finish your breakfast. I will not have good food be wasted."

~~~

Three...two...one...

"WHAT?!" America mentally groaned as she felt a headache coming on, though she had seen this coming. As soon as she declared the arrangement, the majority of the nations were now in the process of losing what was left of their minds.

"I said that Spain and I are going to be married in seven months' time," she repeated evenly. "Is there a problem with that gentlemen?"

"You're damn right there's a problem!" Of course it had to be England who spoke up, America wasn't surprised. The man didn't know how to be calm even if it saved him. "Do you even understand what you're getting yourself into America?!"

"I'm perfectly aware Mr. Kirkland, and I am only going through with this because of what Spain offered me. Why else do you think that I would not send you resources?"

"What are you--"

"Don't play dumb with me Mr. Kirkland, I am not the idiot you are so intent on making me look like. I know that you will offer nothing to me in return for my services, just as the majority of you have, so why should I offer that to you when Spain has something to offer me in return? This is nothing but an arranged marriage, nothing more, nothing less."

"But--"

"If you have a problem with that Mr. Kirkland, you may speak to my boss or the King of Spain, but I warn you that the decision has already been finalized, so your complaint will be invalid at this point."

That shut England up, who then slumped into his seat in defeat.

America looked up to the rest of the room. "Anyone else?"

When no one responded, she turned to the front of the room. "I thought not, so let's continue this meeting. I have somewhere I need to be after this, and I can't be late."

That shot the nations straight into the action, and thankfully the meeting was over before America knew it, allowing her to leave early. As she got into her limousine to get to her next destination, she prayed that she wasn't making a big mistake.

And this was Spain she was talking about, who eagerly destroyed most of her brother's people and took him from their mother, destroying the childhood he could've had with her and Honan.

"Miss, is everything alright?" the driver asked. Startled, America shot up, realizing that a stray tear was going down her cheek. Wiping it away, she smiled at the driver.

"I'm alright, just thinking."

The driver's eyebrow scrunched up in disbelief, but he thankfully didn't question her as he went back to driving.

America pursed her lips. She really, really needed to talk to Mexico whenever she was able.


	49. His American Wife (Spain) (Part 2)

A knock came at her door, almost startling America from her work stupor. Shaking herself, she called, "Come in!"

The door opened shortly after, and a man with tan skin, messy dark brown hair, the warmest brown eyes she has known, the beginnings of a mustache and beard, and a tall stature walked in. At the moment, no smile was on his face, but that was to be expected.

America smiled at him weakly. "Hola hermano," she greeted.

"Hola hermana." Mexico stood in front of her desk, not moving to sit down. America then took that moment to stand up and walk over to her older brother, guiding him to the sofa nearby.

He sat down after she did, and all the while he didn't smile, but still America didn't expect it. After all, she had told him what transpired days ago, and this was a subject that hung heavy over them both.

They then sat there in that silence for a few minutes, doing nothing but stare at the floor. Then, with a mute sigh, Mexico looked to her. "You're scared are you?"

America looked at him. "What gave it away?"

"The looks you've been giving me." Sometimes America envied her older brother's ability to see right through her, especially during the most difficult times. Every time she put on a strong face to hide what she was really feeling, Mexico would always know what was really going on behind her mask, and he would never believe a word she says when she tries to tell him that she's fine.

However, she much preferred that her brother be the one to see the vulnerable side of her.

Mexico spoke up once more. "You still have not forgiven him for what he's done, have you?" he asked gently.

America shook her head. "No," she said. "And I don't know if I ever will."

Mexico nodded in understanding. "I have not truly forgiven him either Emilia," he said truthfully. "I know he took care of me and made me into the hombre that I am now, but that does not change the fact that he took me from our madre, someone who had been raising us just fine before they came. He also killed so many of Madre's native people, caused her so much pain, and did not take into consideration that he was hurting people. I can understand your fear Emilia."

America nodded.

"But that's not the only reason you're afraid."

Again, America shook her head. "No, it's not."

Mexico went silent as she continued.

"I know he was never directly cruel to me Diego, but that does not change the fact that he did nothing to stop it. He did not care about me, I know that much, after all why get involved with the "supposed" problems of the world superpower, someone you have never raised, or rather tried to raise?

"I know one thing Diego; despite being under his care, he never truly raised you, did he? Romano was always his top priority, while you and the other countries he conquered came in second. You had to raise yourself, unable to come back to us for good, and you became closer with the countries of Central and South America because of it. All the while, England's top priority was always himself, and France's was Canada. Either way, I always came second to them both."

Mexico stayed silent.

"Was this a mistake Diego?" she asked. "I know this is an arranged marriage, but I don't want to love him. I don't want to love one of the men that caused my family so much pain, that did nothing as one of his own was being harassed for no good reason, and who gave me no reason to care for him. Is that a wrong thing of me to do?"

Mexico said nothing for a moment, but he closed his eyes in thought. Then, after reopening them, he gingerly took America's hand into his own and squeezed gently.

"I can't answer that question Emilia," he said. "After all, this was a decision that you made, and I am not you. However, I can tell you this; you are doing this because you want to protect your chicos, to provide better protection for your people, and to help the innocent people of Spain who do not wish for any conflict." He smiled gently. "There's nothing wrong with that Emilia, and it is alright if you do not wish to love España. That's your choice, and if you want to love him, then that's fine."

America smiled weakly but gratefully. "Gracias for talking to me Diego, I really needed someone to talk to."

Mexico smiled back, placing a kiss to the side of her forehead. "De nada, hermana."

~~~

It had been hard trying to make up a new schedule.

When America informed her children of the arranged marriage, to say that they were not happy would be an understatement. Of course, while they didn't outright hate Spain, that didn't mean that they liked him, especially thanks to his inaction when it concerned their mother. However, neither of them complained outright, and America didn't know if that was a good thing or otherwise.

However, they did as was requested of them and got the mansion ready for Spain's arrival.

For a time, Spain was to come stay with America while the arrangements of the marriage were being made, though America insisted that she make the arrangements too. After all, being nations, it would do the both of them good if the marriage is a small affair, especially with all that was going on.

And now the day was here, and America's children were busying themselves either with tasks they already completed or their hobbies, such as playing in the snow, ice-skating, cooking (when it wasn't even dinner yet), and sewing by the fireplace.

America supposed that was better than an altogether crazy household.

And right now, America was sitting in the living room with a few of her children, reading a book while listening to the rhythmic sounds of Pennsylvania knitting a scarf by the fireplace, Maine listening to a calming Christmas piano melody through his headphones, Arkansas showing Louisiana and North and South Dakota pictures of his newest fashion ideas, Maryland watering the plants, and Washington reading a book in the corner.

Faintly, America heard the sound of a car approaching, so, after marking her place in her book, got up and walked to the door, looking out the peephole to see a limousine pulling up in front of the mansion.

"Children!" called America, opening another door to call out to the states outside. "Spain's here, come on in!"

Hearing their mother, everyone was quick to get into the house and get ready, the other states not far behind them. While they did that, America walked out to greet Spain, watching as his driver stepped out of the deactivated vehicle.

"Good afternoon sir," greeted America.

"Afternoon Miss," the driver greeted back as he opened one of the back doors, allowing a familiar nation to step out into the open.

America plastered on a welcoming smile. "Buenas tardes Señor Fernandes, I hope you had a good trip?"

"Gracis America, I have," said Spain, smiling slightly.

"I'm glad to hear that. Here, allow me to help you." Walking towards the trunk of the limo, America took out a significant amount of Spain's luggage before walking towards the mansion's doors, ignoring Spain's look of astonishment at her strength.

She didn't understand why he was so surprised.

As she was in the process of opening the door, she said to Spain, "Most of my children are busy at the moment, so they will not be able to greet you immediately. I hope you do not mind."

"No, I do not mind," said Spain.

With a nod, America opened the door, walking inside and being greeted by the sight of Texas standing at the entrance, Mississippi and California standing next to him while Florida hid behind him, barely peeking from behind him.

America smiled slightly, while Spain jumped a little from behind her.

"Howdy Mama," greeted Texas, before he tipped his hat at Spain. "Howdy Mr. Fernandes." After this, he nudged his sisters forward.

"Hola Señor Fernandes," greeted California.

"Hello sir," greeted Mississippi.

"H-Hello, sir," greeted Florida shyly.

Spain smiled, albeit nervously, at his children. "H-Hola chicos. How are you?"

"Doing well, thank you for asking sir."

"We wanted to come greet you before we have to return to our chores," said Mississippi. "So...if you will excuse us, we have to return to work."

"S-Si, that's fine."

The four were gone within a blink of an eye, and America took that moment to look at Spain, seeing the dejected look on his face.

She almost felt sorry for him.

"Follow me Señor Fernandes," she ordered, moving to walk towards the guest hallway of the mansion. Spain was quick to follow her, saying nothing all the while.

The walk to the room she prepared for him was quiet, but America didn't really care. She was just happy she didn't have to answer any questions that she wasn't in the mood to answer at this time. Finally, they arrived to his room, and America unlocked the door before walking inside and setting down the luggage by the foot of the bed.

Like the room she had prepared at the White House, this room was simple, with bookshelves containing books of all languages, mahogany floors, dark red wallpaper, a large bed, a large closet, and a connected bathroom. There was also a balcony that overlooked the countryside nearby.

America turned to Spain and handed him the key. "This is yours from now on. Dinner will be ready soon, so get any rest you wish until it's time. I will come get you when it's ready."

She then moved to leave, but Spain's voice stopped her.

"Wait, America."

America turned to face Spain. "Yes?"

Spain hesitated before speaking. "Are you feeling alright?"

America blinked. "Yes, I am feeling fine. Why do you ask?"

"No, I mean are you feeling alright about this marriage?"

America didn't speak at first, though she did stare at Spain for a few moments before she found the words.

"You do not need to worry about that at this time Señor Fernandes. I will leave you alone now, and again dinner will be ready soon."

She then walked out the door before Spain could say another word.

As she walked towards the kitchen, America began to punch herself in the face.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID!_

America had never wanted the earth to crack open and swallow her whole for a long time.


	50. His American Wife (Spain) (Part 3)

The last few months were...a little stressful to say the least.

Now, America didn't mean this in a way that meant it was all the time, but that had been a prominent feeling in her household ever since Spain came to live with them for a time.

Interactions between them had been very, very tense, mostly because both Spain and the states didn't know how to interact with each other. So America often had to be the one to break a lot of awkward tensions between them so things could continue on like they were supposed to, but she was really starting to regret her decision.

America knew her children were trying their hardest, but they were around a man they didn't know how to act towards. Of course, like she said before, they didn't hate Spain, but they didn't trust him either, especially after all that happened. America couldn't really blame her children for feeling that way, for she had felt the same way for a long time now, but still...

They at least acknowledged that their mother was going to be marrying this man for the benefit of them all, and all they had to do was give him a chance.

However, despite this major hiccup, Spain had been respectful to all of the states and America, understanding when they were never in the mood to speak to him and giving them the space they needed when that occurred. Of course, he still retained a dejected face whenever his own children treated him distantly, but he never outwardly complained.

But America wasn't surprised. Spain was not the kind of person who gave up so easily, especially when it came to Romano.

Romano...oh America was thanking the gods that it wasn't him that she had to get married to.

Anyway, during these last few months, America and Spain had been busy planning for their wedding.

In the end, as it was going to be a small affair, it was agreed upon that the marriage would take place in Spain and in the countryside where there was this one church that was used only by the people who lived around it. The President's family and the King of Spain's family were invited, as well as a few close friends to both nations, but nothing more than that.

They both agreed to hire the priest to conduct the ceremony, as well as a few best men and bridesmaids for them both, and they also agreed to be the ones who paid for their fittings, the rings, and the attires themselves, despite the insistence of their bosses to pay for it too. However, as both America and Spain themselves had a lot of money, paying for the entire wedding wasn't going to be a problem.

Despite being invited themselves, the states ended up refusing, both for personal and professional reasons. When questioned, Virginia answered.

"We're going to be very busy by the time the wedding is conducted," she said somberly, "and that means we have to prepare for the changes that this marriage will bring us. I hope you don't mind Mother."

America didn't mind. She understood perfectly, for now that Spain was becoming an ally through this marriage, many significant changes would be happening, and they would need to be prepared. However, America also detected the hidden reason too; The states did not wish to see their mother getting married to a man they did not trust, to see the world they grew up in crumbling around them.

America knew her children were terrified, and she could not fault them.

But now the wedding day was approaching, and America wondered if she really was as ready for this as she thought.

_Please grant me strength Mother Gaia,_ she prayed the night they were scheduled to leave for Spain. _I don't know if I can do this alone._

~~~

The ride to Spain had been long and tiring, and even after they got out of the plane, America felt like she was on another planet, the anxiety growing by the second.

She once more prayed to Mother Gaia, something that she had been doing for the duration of the plane ride. It was pretty pathetic, this America knew, and she actually laughed to herself weakly.

_I really am losing my mind,_ she said.

They were then quickly ushered into a limo as they were then taken to the site of their wedding, or rather close to it, where they were going to be staying in the summer home of the King of Spain and his family, who were already there with the President and his family, and upon seeing them there, America wondered what she was getting herself into.

The anxiety continued to grow by the second, so much so that she had a hard time getting to sleep that night, the eve of their wedding.

America felt she barely got any sleep when morning finally arrived, and she was being ushered into getting ready and heading to the church to prepare.

Spain had already went out, having gotten ready earlier than she had thanks to his own helpers, and it was essential that he be there before his bride. America didn't mind this however, as this allowed her to ponder in her thoughts quietly while the seamstresses and maids helped her into her wedding dress.

A dress that felt so foreign to her body, and yet so right.

This was it.

This was day she was going to be getting married, especially to a man she did not love in the slightest.

America almost laughed to herself at this. She never would've thought in a million years that this would happen to her.

But it was now, and she felt like a piece of shit.

The maids and seamstresses stepped away from her.

"Hemos terminado señorita (We are finished Miss)," said one of the maids, bringing America from her thoughts. She waited as two other maids placed a mirror in front of her, allowing her to see her reflection.

She barely recognized the woman that stared back at her.

The long white dress, so simple yet elegant, hugged her figure perfectly, looking like it was made for her only. The small white gloves did not hide her elegant hands, her red lipstick made her look seductive, the blue eye-shadow brought out her eyes, her hair had been glossed to look like it was a true gem, and the veil looked like a misty trail that hid angel wings.

This was not her. This beautiful woman was not her. It couldn't be her.

The maids smiled at her. "¿Qué te parece señorita (What do you think Miss)?" asked one of them.

America smiled at them, a genuine smile. "Es bonito. Gracias (It's beautiful. Thank you)."

The maids and seamstresses bowed, thankful for her praise, and then a church bell rung, startling America from her stupor.

"Es el momento (It is time)," said another maid. "Vaya, señorita. Su novio está esperando (Go along Miss. Your groom is waiting)."

America nodded, trying to keep the smile on her face. "Gracias." She then walked out of the room, holding on to her bouquet of roses and white lilies tightly as she made her way to the church, which sat across from the house.

As she forced one foot in front of the other, America could feel her heart pounding against her chest the closer she got.

This is it, she thought. This is it. This is it.

As she approached the doors, they opened, revealing a beautiful room within. The stain glass windows shone with the sun, the room was simple, and the wedding guests immediately stood up as she entered, their mouths parting and their eyes widening when they saw her.

It was hard to not clutch her bouquet tighter or take off running.

Ahead of her, dressed in a fine wedding suit, his hair styled neatly yet showing its true messy formation, and also eyeing her with astonishment beside the priest, was Spain.

For a moment, America forgot that this man was Spain, the man she was to marry for the benefit of both of their countries.

Eventually, America reached Spain, and they turned to face the priest as he spoke in Spanish.

"Querido querido, estamos aquí reunidos hoy para (Dearly beloved, today we are gathered here to)..." The priest's voice trailed off as America returned to her thoughts.

Was she making the right choice? How was this going to affect her future? Would Spain truly be able to protect her and her children if she helped him? What if...what if he--

"Antonio Fernandes-Carriedo. ¿Tomas a Emily F. Jones como tu esposa (Antonio Fernandes-Carriedo, do you take Emily F. Jones to be your wife)?" The priest's words brought America back to reality.

Spain didn't hesitate to answer. "Hago (I do)."

"¿Y tú, Emily F. Jones, tomas a Antonio Fernandes-Carriedo como tu esposo (And do you, Emily F. Jones, take Antonio Fernandes-Carriedo as your husband)?"

Come on America, just say the words, and all this will be over.

Just say it.

_Just say it!_

"Hago (I do)."

She said it.

"Entonces os declaro marido y mujer (Then I now pronounce you husband and wife)," declared the priest before turning to Spain. "Puede besar a la novia (You may kiss the bride)."

They turned to face each other, with America forcing herself to step towards Spain and place her lips on his. She then forced her lips and tongue to move in rhythm to his own, barely hearing the applause of the wedding attendants.

She has done it.

She is now Spain's wife.

She hoped that this would not be the biggest mistake she has ever made.


	51. His American Wife (Spain) (Part 4)

It was done.

She was now the wife of Spain's personification, Antonio Fernandes-Carriedo, a man she did not love in the slightest.

Their wedding night had been a difficult one to say the least, and that was not counting the fact that America was to have sex with her new husband, an act she was very hesitant to act upon. What was worse though was that she felt she was betraying _them_ by doing this act with a man she did not love.

Not to mention it was hard for her to imagine that Spain was them. His touch was too different, too hard, too calloused, too hesitant, and that had always been enough to tell America that the man she was having sex with was not them.

She was thankful when it was over and she woke up the next day alone in that bed, but not when it came to her thoughts.

She felt like the worst piece of shit in the world, that she was performing intercourse with someone that wasn't them, and never would be them.

But it was done. They had consummated their marriage, and there was no going back now. Spain was her husband now, which made him the stepfather to most of her children, and America was going to have to spend the rest of her life with him unless something happened like with Hungary and Austria.

But that was where the similarities with Hungary and Austria's marriage ended. It didn't matter how long this marriage went, for America would never love Spain, not like the two older nations have with each other, probably before they were even married. America had already promised herself to two men already, and nothing was going to change that, not even this arranged marriage.

Perhaps Spain could try, but America was adamant that nothing would change between them.

And they hadn't. Even months after their marriage, they continued to treat each other formally and at a distance. The fact that they were husband and wife meant nothing to them, at least that was how America saw it, but she much preferred it that way than any.

She didn't trust Spain, and she doubted that she ever would after all these centuries.

Again, while Spain was never directly cruel to her, that didn't mean he wasn't guilty. Like many nations centuries before, he believed that women were the weaker gender and therefore had to be controlled, something she experienced firsthand when she became her own nation. Since then, she knew she couldn't trust him with her identity or the fact that she had children with him, especially after she learned about his favoritism with Romano.

Even now America shudders as she thought of what could've happened if Spain knew the truth.

Still, that did not change the fact that they are husband and wife now, and that they may be expected to act like it at times. America went into this for her people and country, while Spain with his, and she'll be damned before she doesn't even attempt to make this work out.

She did not agree to marry him for nothing after all, and she was going to make this work, even if only for a little while.

~~~

America sighed for what she hoped was the last time today. The meeting, while being successful, had been a little stressful, and she had wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. The meeting had been about the conditions of Spain as a result of the marriage, and so far things were going great; the economy had recovered better thanks to the trade, therefore the riots were diminishing greatly, allowing everyone to breathe easy.

Some people had even moved to the U.S. and vise versa, opening up jobs and even helping to create more bilingual or multilingual people everyone, which pleased America greatly. Her education systems did need to go up in various things, and now she can cross foreign language off the list.

However, there had been some minor hiccups. Many Americans were hesitant to help the Spanish, as the problems had been of their own making, and they were also concerned of potential terrorists coming over. Not only that, but many were also concerned about what helping the Spanish would do to the economy, especially since it had only recently recovered from the previously huge population.

The Spanish were also concerned about becoming too dependent on the U.S. for their needs, and this also caused some riots, which caused America to shake her head but take a deep breath, knowing these people were only concerned about the potential problems that could occur.

Both the President and the King of Spain were quick to shut down these concerns by pointing out the benefits, and since then there had been little riots or protests between the people of both countries.

America was thankful that things had toned down, but good gods did she had a headache.

Now, America was getting ready for bed when she heard the door open. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed her husband walking inside, dressed in nothing but sweatpants, which presented his toned abdomen and tan skin.

Despite never actually seeing this, America didn't doubt that Spain had been thought to be quite the charmer with both genders.

Spain then looked up at America, seeing her pulling on a nightshirt over herself. His tan cheeks reddened, but America felt no embarrassment as she finished getting the shirt over herself.

"Good evening, Mr. Fernandes," she greeted formerly. Spain jumped a little before composing himself.

"Buenas noches America," he greeted back. He then walked towards the bed, carefully keeping his eyes off of her as she continued to get ready for bed. They were sharing a room now, as ordered by their bosses, though thankfully they each had separate beds. America didn't think she could handle being near Spain at this time, despite having shared this room with him for months.

She faintly heard Spain get into bed, and his eyes on her, but she didn't turn around to check. She could tell that he was frowning at her, but why she wasn't in the mood to find out. She just wanted to get into bed and for the day to end already so she could finally have a break.

"You're unhappy." That remark was so sudden that America paused briefly before she finished getting ready. Then she turned around.

"What was that?" she asked.

Spain continued to frown as he looked at her. "You're unhappy," he repeated. "I can tell."

America said nothing at first. Then she sighed and said, "What gave it away?"

Spain paused for answering. "It should be obvious to you as it is to me amiga," he said. "I think anyone can tell that you do not love me, in fact it wasn't hard to figure out."

America smiled bitterly. "Then you understand, don't you?" she asked.

Spain nodded. "Si," he said. "I know you don't love me America, and perhaps you never will. However, I cannot find it in myself to fault you for those thoughts." Spain's expression turned sad at this point. "I know we have never been close throughout the centuries, that I gave you no reason to trust or care about me, therefore I never got to know the real you, the woman who hid behind the mask of a man, and the cold woman who hid behind the appearance of a childlike boy."

America said nothing.

"You fooled me good America, that I am not afraid to admit, but I still cannot believe that you hid the fact that I had children with you, who grew up without me in their lives."

America still said nothing, especially with Spain sighed.

"But I can't fault you for that either. I know that if I had known the truth, I would've treated you differently than I have today. Hell, I would've treated my own children differently, my daughters especially."

He wasn't lying there. Ever since the marriage, many of the states were hesitant to speak to Spain or even allow their mother to be near him alone, though they had to do the last one for obvious reasons, and while they were trying to give Spain a chance, they were still hesitant to trust him, especially with the knowledge of the man he was centuries ago.

America knew if Spain knew that he had children with her, that one: he would've told all the nations the truth about her gender; and two: he would've forced his children to become a part of his society, therefore forcing California, Mississippi, and Florida into roles they didn't want, and for all America knows, Spain could've passed them around like trophies to the royal court and the nobles, Texas included.

It hadn't been that hard to figure out, especially she had been "raised" by England, a man who was known by all nations to be greedy and selfish.

She truly had been lucky that he discovered that in the twenty-first century.

America mutely sighed. "But what do you want from me?" she asked.

Spain blinked. "What do you mean?"

"What do you really want from me Spain?" she asked. "Are you looking for my love, my acceptance, or what I can offer you? Or is it something that should concern me?"

Spain said nothing at first, but he did look down at his hands in thought, an inner conflict playing on his face. America watched him as he failed to speak, even watched as his teeth sunk into his lip, before he finally answered.

"I want your love America," he answered firmly. "I want you to love me, to respect me, and to accept me as a man. Things I know I may never receive from you, but I still went through this marriage anyway because of that."

America blinked as he continued.

"I know America, I know these may seem like empty words to you, but I promise you that they are not. It's just..." Spain took a deep breath. "I really do love you America, and I want you to love me as a man like I love you as a woman."

America stared at Spain, searching for any sign of deceit, but found none. In her silence, Spain continued.

"Again, I know you don't trust me America, and you may never will, which means you may never love me. However, I do not wish to force you into something you don't want. If you wish to distance yourself from me, I will comply without complaint, and I will not bother you or your family for the rest of time."

America's eyes widened at the sincerity. This man...was apologizing to her? She didn't know if she should be amazed or suspicious all over again, but she couldn't deny the sincerity in her husband's voice.

Her husband...that's right.

She was his wife, and she promised herself she would make this work out.

Sighing, she walked towards Spain, the latter watching her every move, and after taking a deep breath, placed a kiss on his forehead. Spain jerked a little in surprise, but did not pull away when she did.

"I'll give you one last chance Antonio," she said. "And if you destroy that chance, I will do as you say I will do, understand?"

Spain smiled, a bright, thankful, and beautiful smile, and without any warning, his arms were around her waist, pulling her to his chest. "Gracias," he whispered against her chest. "Gracias, gracias, gracias..."

America just held him, saying nothing as she went into her thoughts.

_That's right. I'll give you one chance Antonio. Just don't screw it up. It would be a shame if we really had to become enemies._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm going to end His American Wife here, as I don't feel like writing about Romano and Italy because their characters contrast greatly with America's, and I have grown quite bored over this. I thank all of you for reading, and have a good rest of your day!


	52. Honeycomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by AgentAJAKAAngelHeart on Wattpad*

Iowa, or Ysabel Jones/Bonnefoy, glanced nervously at her older brother, Missouri, or Noel Jones/Bonnefoy, cursing the fact that she was alone in the room with him. The reason for her discomfort?

One of their half-siblings accidentally brought up the Honeycomb war, which happened back in 1837 when Missouri was physically almost three and Iowa herself wasn't technically born yet! Now, although they never talked about the Honeycomb war, Iowa knew that her older brother never forgot about it.

However, he never brought it up with her.

"U-Um...frère?" Iowa asked uncertainly.

"Ja?"

"W-Well, um..."

Iowa bit her lip, now cursing her inability to think of something worthwhile to say.

"It's alright."

"Huh?" Iowa stared at Missouri with bug eyes, unsure if she heard right.

"I'm not pleased zhat zhe people who lived in my state at zhe time vere so persistent, but jou need to remember that I myself have almost started zhat war," Missouri explained, looking to her with calm eyes. "After all, zhose people vere hoping to invade jour territory, vhich set jour people on edge, und rightfully so. Zhankfully zhose who used zheir heads prevented zhe actual war from happening."

"But..."

Missouri watched Iowa, clearly in no hurry to hear what she had to say.

"But I was still zhe one who started zhat war."

"And do jou remember zhat jou veren't technically born yet?"

"Well, oui, but--"

"Und how can I blame my own kleine schwester? Specifically who vasn't born until zhe year after?" Missouri raised an eyebrow at Iowa. "If anyzhing, I should be blamed, for I vas unable to stop even my own people from doing somezhing terrible."

Iowa recoiled. "But you were only a child!"

"I know, und zhat's vhat's made all zhat hard. I vasn't as strong as Muti, nor vas I able to get my current leaders to listen to me. Now, don't misunderstand me Ysabel, I know zhat I'm not to blame in more vays zhan one, and zhat zhe chopping down of a few honeybee trees vas zhe only zhing zhat happened, but zhat doesn't mean zhat I don't feel guilty for nearly starting a redundant war." 

Iowa lowered her eyes in shame, also embarrassed at her own foolishness. "I'm sorry, frère."

"Don't be. I have never blamed jou for vhat has happened, but I'm afraid it vill take me a long while before I can forgive myself for zhat time."

The siblings sat in comfortable silence for a couple minutes until Wisconsin came in, clutching her badger close to her chest as she glanced uncertainly at them.

"Um...Ysabel, Noel? Mama wants to see you."

Said people looked to her, confused. "Who are you?" Iowa asked, questions marks above her head.

Wisconsin face-planted. "I'm your sister, Yolanthe!"

"Oh, dammit."

"Language," Missouri scolded, staring hard at Iowa.

"I'm sorry!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frère means brother in French.
> 
> Kleine schwester means little sister in German.


	53. Indifference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

South Korea anxiously glanced back and forth between his brother and America, unsure of who to defend and who to criticize.

North Korea, a man with long brown hair held back in a low ponytail, brown eyes, and wearing a green army uniform, glared across the table at the woman in front of them, who easily ignored him. America was doing something on her laptop, some work perhaps, and has not once said a word to either of the Korean personifications.

Although America and South Korea were friends, they still weren't the closest of individuals. In fact, when South Korea found out that America was a woman, he didn't know what to think. He couldn't believe that the real America was cruel, manipulative, and apathetic, going so far as to threaten one of the nations with death if they crossed her.

Whenever South Korea looked at her, he saw a woman who was woven from war. In any case, he felt bad for her. Being a former kingdom, South Korea knew the pressures of being a country, but never of a superpower. Now that the nations know of the real America, they gravely fear her, and although he won't admit it, North Korea did as well.

He knew just as well as America did that she was more than capable of wiping him off the face of the earth, and with a smile on her face.

In fact, North Korea's boss gravely feared America's wrath.

"Well?" North Korea spat, looking ready to smash his fist on the table.

America looked up, emotionless as ever. "Well what?"

"Are you going to talk?"

"I'm waiting for you to tell me why you asked me to come here North Korea," America replied, looking back to her laptop and continuing to type.

South Korea flinched when North Korea shot up from his seat. "You should know why you're here!"

America stared evenly back at him. "I do not. You did not say why you wished to meet with me in your email."

Now that South Korea thought about it, she was right. He knew he shouldn't have poked into his brother's stuff, but, with South Korea being South Korea, he couldn't help himself. He looked into North Korea's email and saw that he, indeed, did not give America a specific reason on why he wished to speak with her face-to-face. Of course, South Korea had a good idea of what his brother wanted from the female superpower, but whatever it was, it wasn't good.

If possible, North Korea's glare would've set America aflame. "You are testing my patience America."

"Well then, I apologize," America said, indifferent. "I'll have you know that I don't really care on what you do North Korea, for either way, it will end poorly for you and your people."

North Korea tried to look unaffected, but failed miserably. "H-How so?"

"I believe you know better than anyone that you should never poke a sleeping dragon in the eye. After all, the entire world knows how vengeful my people get when something horrendous happens to one of their own, if the wars were any indication. Just remember your place North Korea, because the entire world is waiting for you to make the wrong move, and want your life erased."

America's gaze turned deathly cold when she glanced back at North Korea, and South Korea had to resist the urge to run. "Keep that in mind North Korea, and I'll let you live for a little longer."

"I-Is that a th-threat?" North Korea stammered.

"Oh no, it's a warning, but it will become a threat if you continue to insist." The smirk America gave him told South Korea of a threat of a painful and slow death, a complete massacre of North Korea's people, and America herself watching it all take place with a smile on her face.

He never felt more terrified of the superpower than this day.

"Am I clear, North Korea?"

The man didn't answer.

"I will ask again. Am. I. Clear, North Korea?"

South Korea saw his brother gulp, before he muttered, "Yes."

"Good, now shall we get down to business?"

~~~

Days later, South Korea was walking with America in downtown New York, trying to keep up. In this city, people were walking faster than him, eager to get to their chosen destinations, and some even glared at South Korea for being so slow before continuing on their way. South Korea ducked his head, doing his best to keep up with America, who wasn't having any problem in walking in these crowded streets.

Oh who was he kidding? This was in America's _country_!

"America, are we there yet da ze?" South Korea asked impatiently.

"Almost," America replied, and soon they arrived at their destination, a small tea house called Radiance Tea House and Books that was suggested by Ryker not too long ago.

It was a pretty modest place: not too big, not a lot of staff, and there were even books and other gifts one could buy. America ordered a table for them both, and soon various kinds of small tea cakes were placed before them, as well as their respective tea. America quietly sipped from hers as she proceeded to read a book that she grabbed from her bag.

South Korea still found it a little hard to believe that America of all people could read, but then again he didn't know the real her until now. He never felt so stupid.

"Go ahead Yong Soo, I did get the cakes for you you know," America spoke up, never looking up from her book as she took a bite of one of the small cakes.

"Why are you doing this da ze?" South Korea found himself asking.

Finally America looked up. "Care to elaborate?"

"Why are you being so nice to me? Do you want something from me da ze?"

America didn't answer for a long moment, and then, "I thought it would be nice to treat a coworker of mine to a trip to a tea house. Is that a crime?"

"That's not it da ze!" South Korea protested. "We both know that you don't care, so why are you lying?!"

South Korea was speaking so loud that the other patrons glared at them, though others looked confused. Embarrassed, he ducked his head.

America sighed. "That's true, I don't care. However, there is one thing you're not acknowledging here."

South Korea looked up. "What da ze?"

"I have no reason to be cruel to you, as you never actually complained to me before. However, I can tell it was there. Trust me, I didn't bring you here because we're friends, but as two acquainted coworkers. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't care how you view it, it doesn't change the truth."

Seeing as she wasn't going to say more, South Korea quietly took a bite out of one of the small cakes. He had to admit it was delicious. Still, what he was feeling at the moment didn't allow him to fully enjoy that cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you guys are thinking; How could I do this to South Korea? Well, if you guys think about it, South Korea looks up to China and even tries to be noticed by him, so it should make sense why he and America aren't close. Though I'm not sure if this is true (I don't bother looking up anti-Americanism in other nations without the threat of me getting pissed off about it), but I believe South Korea also complains about the help America is giving him. Sounds like China was a good influence on him huh?


	54. Innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

It was obvious.

While many of the states had nothing against him, Ireland could not say the same for the northeastern states; Maine, New York, New Jersey, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Vermont, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and Maryland.

He wouldn't say they hated him, but that didn't mean they trusted him.

Hell, while Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Rhode Island were polite to him, it would take a complete idiot to not notice their refusal to lower their guard; New Hampshire would politely nod to her uncle, but would not say a word, urging her twin sister, Connecticut, to do the same; New York and New Jersey clearly didn't hide their hostility when Ireland came into their sight; Maine, Vermont, and Delaware would watch him like he was an animal that would pounce when they weren't looking; and Massachusetts would openly glare at him with contempt.

He knew why they avoided him like he was the plague in the past, just before they realized Ireland was not so much of the bad guy they thought.

Ireland knew of how his brother treated his former colony, and how foolish he had been. Stupid man, throwing away what he had, and now wanting it back like that was possible.

"You are a fool, Arthur Kirkland, to give up such a gift. Now, you will never get that back now that you have happily thrown it away like it was nothing more than trash," he mused at one point, feeling every bit as disappointed in his brother than ever.

However, that wasn't the only reason why the northeast states disliked him in the past.

When many Irish immigrants moved to the United States, they were sending money back to their country of origin, which lead to the states at first seeing Ireland as greedy and self-centered. Not only that, but Ireland was aware that they felt terrible for him, because during the Civil War, rich Americans forced the Irish to replace them in the drafts.

They were also disgusted with themselves for allowing that to happen, as that event literally ripped their mother in two, a sight that haunted not only them, but a couple of the other states forever.

Ireland was all too familiar with that feeling. In fact, he doubted there wasn't any one country that didn't know the pain of a civil war.

Even still, during that time, Ireland heard that most of them criticized America for having a civil war so early, calling her "immature" and so forth. Now, whenever the civil war is mentioned, America's eyes would darken considerably, soon staring off into a distance that no one could reach her from. They started seeing the bloodshed on both sides, the deaths of innocents on both sides, and the hatred that lingered.

Ireland didn't see the poor woman as immature, but rather as someone who lost her innocence too early. Though, then again, she may have already lost it long ago, just when the cruelty of the world became known to her at an early age.

He didn't blame the younger nation for becoming cold as ice, especially to the ones who deserved it.

Not only was she trying her best for her people, but she was also trying to protect her children, all of whom she couldn't protect from the same cruelty that took her own innocence. Ireland truly felt for America, and he wasn't afraid to admit it, unlike his stupid brother.

Back to the present, Ireland had been playing chess with Massachusetts when a stressed America came home and stormed to her room, where they soon heard her screaming in rage. Ireland flinched in sympathy, glancing at a weary Felix.

"I'm sorry." It was all he could say. What could he say to change the fact that being the superpower was the toughest job in the world, especially when you have to deal with those who hate you for no good reason? Ireland wasn't foolish to the fact that most of the other nations enjoyed placing the blame on America.

It won't be long now before America abandons them, just as they abandoned her.

Felix said nothing, but a few tears escaped from his blue eyes, his mother's eyes. Soon those eyes were looking up at him, as if in some attempt he wanted Ireland to be the man to help his mother.

Ireland didn't want him to get his hopes up. After all, he was just a minor nation, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try. He also knew something that would make his stupid brother freeze in his tracks.

Mother would be ashamed of him.


	55. I Want You to Hate Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

"And why, exactly, should I do that?" America asked, arms crossed. She was alone in the meeting room with none other than Russia, as the other nations had left for the time being, though Alaska was nearby, drawing a picture of a sunflower, and, of course, the youngest state happened to be America and Russia's topic of conversation.

For once, Russia was not smiling, but it was clear that he wasn't in a good mood. This made even Alaska glance up from time to time, worried that her father would attempt to do something to her mother, and this made her finger the hidden revolver she had in her coat.

"You know what will happen comrade," Russia replied.

"And what is that? War? Protests? Or temper tantrums on your end?" America asked coldly, her eyes turning steely and icy.

Russia was doing a very good job at concealing his shiver, and even his annoyance. "You know I'm not low enough to act like a child."

"I would beg to differ," America began, "but I'm afraid that would only result in me wasting my breath."

The two of them were talking about Russia wanting Alaska back, but that wasn't the only thing that was making America extremely annoyed with the man before her. It was the fact that even the Russian people themselves were demanding back Alaska, coming up with the most ridiculous of conspiracy theories, some of which were saying that America never paid for Alaska in the first place or that the country actually rented the state.

If those idiots were even aware of American history...oh why was America even bothering?

"I have already told you over a hundred times Mr. Braginski," America continued, deathly calm. "One: unless you give me a good reason to send Alaska back with you, she's not going. And two: she's too young."

Russia narrowed his eyes at this, but retained his composure. "I get it now. You still think that I would harm my own daughter, da?"

"And if I remember correctly Mr. Braginski, Joseph Stalin had sinister motives for Alaska, if the propaganda was anything to go by, and you should know that I'm not one who takes potential threats lightly, especially not after the September 11 attacks. Also, when I first became pregnant with Alaska, I noticed that you too had sinister motives for her, and the last thing I wanted was for you to know of her existence and raise her in my stead, turning her into that monster."

Russia now actually had the balls to flinch, but America felt no empathy. She knew that he knew that he would've been horrible to Alaska during his Soviet times, and he couldn't even deny it. However, it was his next words that made America almost pity him.

"I just wanted someone who would love me Amerika," he whispered brokenly. "Is that too much to ask for?"

America didn't answer for many moments. "Russia, did I say that I was going to keep Alaska away from you?"

Russia now looked confused. "Nyet?"

"I never did, and I never said that you couldn't be in Alaska's life. Look, I'm not exactly pleased that you're demanding her back at a time like this, but I'm not low enough to deny my daughter's rights to know her father. However, don't misunderstand me." America now had a threatening look on her face. "Remember that I'm doing this for her sake, not yours. I'm also not doing this out of kindness for you.

"Alaska needs to have her father in her life, and I have no right to take that from her, but if I were you I'd use that wisely, or else I will take Alaska from you for good, and you will never see or hear from her again, not while I'm still alive and breathing."

The lilac-eyed nation stared at her for another moment, before he began to chuckle lowly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're just as bad as England when it came to you."

America didn't outwardly react. "Do not compare me to him," she ordered. "Unlike him, I know that, sooner or later, my children will have to leave me to be their own countries, and that may signify the day that I likely join my mother in the afterworld. However, Alaska is too young to join you, and if I were you I'd wait until she's fully grown and taking care of herself without me before I let you get to that level with her."

Russia chuckled again, bitterly. "And do you think that my people will allow that?"

"I don't care what they think," America replied, indifferent. "From what I'm seeing, your people are acting exactly like children, though, I'll let them think what they want. It doesn't matter to me."

"Then you better watch your back comrade."

"Look at my face, Mr. Braginski." America pointed to her face. "Does this look like the face of a woman who cares about what you think?"

Neither spoke for multiple moments, and even America knew that Alaska was watching them like a hawk. However, the older woman stared at Russia, allowing him to scan her face for any sign of emotion that proved her words were false. He seemed to find none, because, for a split second, she saw a look of hurt, so although it was gone just as fast, she knew what she saw.

"If that is all Mr. Braginski, this conversation is over." America finally broke eye contact with the other nation and walked towards her daughter, who scurried to her feet and rushed towards the door. It seemed even she knew that her mother wasn't in the best of moods right now.

But America paused at the door. "Oh, and one last thing."

She didn't wait to see if Russia was paying attention. "You can go on ahead and hate me with all your being, both you and the other nations. I don't care. I never had, and I never will. I don't know what you're hoping to gain from me hating you, but whatever it is, I'm in no mood to hand that to you."

America then left before Russia could make a comment.


	56. Memories of Blood and Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this is a chapter that explores PTSD, specifically the flashbacks and manic episodes. Keep in mind that I understand that this is not a topic to smile or laugh about, so therefore I'm not going to sugarcoat anything here or make any jokes about it in any way, shape, or form, and if you don't want to read this you're free to leave. This is only to bring awareness to PTSD and give those an idea of what could happen. Also if you or someone you know is suffering from PTSD, please don't be afraid to ask for help, and know that you're not alone.

"France, Spain, zhe awesome me has an idea!" Prussia declared with that laugh of his.

"What is it amigo?" Spain asked good-naturedly.

"Jou know Maine?"

"Amerique's son?" France asked.

"Ja! I vas zhinking ve should see how zhe guy reacts to pranks."

France couldn't hold back an amused smile. "What do you have in mind?"

Prussia shrugged. "Jou know, zhe usual firecrackers und all. So, vhat do jou guys say?"

"I am in!" France beamed.

"Um..." Spain began, uncertain.

Looks like he seemed to be the only reluctant one here, but can you blame him? There was something off about Maine, something sinister under that shy and Mama's boy exterior. Spain may be a goofball, but if there was one thing he wasn't, he wasn't stupid, except when it came to America obviously, but of course the tan-skinned nation didn't know how well of an actress she really was.

"A-Are you sure amigo?" Spain stammered. "I don't think this is a--"

"Oh don't vorry jourself Spain!" Prussia brushed off. "Ve'll be alright, and so vill Maine."

If only he knew what he was getting them into.

~~~

Maine was walking down the hallways, eager to see his mother as he carried the papers she wanted to the meeting room. He was still hesitant to speak to his father and uncle, even though the two men were different from the monsters he saw from the past. The memory of Washington burning nearly came to mind, but Maine immediately pulled out his little radio to listen to his mother's singing voice, sending the memory away.

He didn't want another breakdown, and not here of all places, where he would more than possibly harm someone innocent, like little Latvia.

However, the universe seemed to hate him, because something erupted under his feet.

"Uh?!" The movement was so sudden that Maine dropped his little radio, and looking down at the ground, all he saw was fire.

Just...fire. Smoke was filling his lungs and stinging his eyes as he desperately ran to find his mother and Daniel. It was so hard to even breathe, and the one-year-old Maine didn't know what was going on, expect for one thing.

Washington D.C. was burning, and that meant the British and Canadian troops have reached and attacked the capital. That also meant...

No...please _don't let it be true_.

**Don't let it be true!**

Maine burst from the forest, seeing a fiery inferno, people running for their lives, people screaming in agony, fire consuming everything it touched, and...and...

...there was a certain scream, one that Maine will never forget.

A two-year-old Daniel was running towards him, covered completely in flames and screaming in agony as they licked his tiny body. His skin was sizzling as if it was hamburger meat, and Maine could smell the burning flesh where he stood, and he was wondering why he wasn't spitting up all the food he had to eat earlier on the ground before him.

All he wanted to do was help his agonized older half-brother.

"Daniel!" Maine screamed, reaching his half-brother and trying to put out the flames, but all he was accomplishing was spreading the fire onto himself. It hurt, but not so much as the scream of America as the attack on her capital was leading to a heart attack, one that nearly killed her.

Maine didn't know what to do, abandon Daniel and help his mother, or stay with Daniel and allow America to die. He knew it shouldn't have mattered, since Daniel's death would mean the death of their mother, but this was his _family_!

Then he saw them, smiling with triumph at their work; his own father and uncle, watching America burn like it was nothing to them, like Emily F. Jones didn't mean anything to them! If there was a Hell, then this was it, and Arthur Kirkland and Matthew Williams were the demons, watching with sadistic pleasure as people fell dead around them.

Back in reality, a terrified Maine was staring off into an uncertain distance, openly sobbing with hopelessness and anger. He cried for his mother, for Daniel, for _anyone_ to help them, but no one came until the fire was gone. Overall, he didn't seem to be in reality anymore, and the three countries nearby, who performed what they thought was a harmless prank, knew something wasn't right.

Then Maine had to look up at them, and he immediately turned from a crying, hopeless child to that of a mentally ill psychopath. In his mind, he was seeing a mixture of British and Canadian soldiers surround him

"IT'S YOU!!" he screeched as he grabbed a rifle from out of nowhere and began chasing after the three terrified nations, who immediately took off running with Maine hot on their heels. "You fucking Brits! You goddamn Canadian! I'm gonna kill you!** I'LL KILL YOU!!**"

All throughout the building, the screams of terror from Prussia, France, and Spain and of Maine echoed throughout the building and into the meeting room, where everyone turned to the door. Gunshots were also heard.

America bit her lip. "Not again."

The Bad Touch Trio ran for their lives, not stopping for anything, and finally they jumped out a window, hoping the deranged kid wouldn't follow them.

Luckily, he didn't, but... "Swim back to your fallen kingdom you pieces of shit! Now I'll give you a boast to get you on your way to death!"

The trio did not like the way Maine said that, and you'll see why in a second.

Maine started throwing real grenades at them, forcing the trio to hide by a large rock for cover and hope the state would leave them be. Meanwhile, Spain glared at Prussia.

"I told you something was wrong with him!" he accused.

"How vas I supposed to know?!" Prussia snapped back in a whisper so as to not draw the state's attention even more.

France remained silent, praying that something would save them. Well, lucky for him, that something, or rather someone, came.

"Maine, honey!" America called gently, halting Maine's assault. Looking past their shelter, the trio saw Maine's mother come next to a frozen Maine in the window. Her face was serene and calm, with love written all over her face and even worry mixed in. So, this wasn't the first time this happened.

"Mama?!" Maine asked, looking through America and everything around him. "Where are you?"

"I'm right next to you honey." Carefully, America took Maine's hand. He didn't move an inch. "Maine, it's only a memory."

"But it's so...so hot!" Maine protested, crying once again. "Everyone's screaming, Danny's on fire, you're screaming! I can't see where you are!!"

Once again being very gentle, America wrapped her arms around her son's waist, and started to sing.

It was a gentle, loving lullaby, and the trio were too far away to hear the words as they were being sung softly, but they could see America starting to gently rock Maine back and forth like he was a baby. Her singing seemed to be working, because Maine's agonized face eased into one of serenity. Once America finished singing, Maine collapsed right in front of her, his broad arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

"I'm sorry Mama..." he sobbed.

America hugged his head. "Why don't you head to the car? I'll be right behind you, but let me take care of a few things first."

Maine nodded and walked away. However, as soon as he left, America looked out the window, glaring angrily at the trio, who froze in fear once more.

First Maine, now America. That's just great.

~~~

"You fucking idiots! Do you not have brains in those heads of yours?!" America snapped. They were now back in the meeting room, where she basically dragged them before she started yelling at them. The other nations stayed as far away from America as possible, not wanting to be a part of her anger. She was more terrifying than Russia for Heaven's sake!

"Ve didn't know, okay?!" Prussia shouted back.

"Then next time, think before you act Prussia! You have a brain, so use it!! And you two, I thought you knew better than to go through with this, and here you thought I was immature!"

Spain and France looked down in shame, unable to look America in the eye.

"U-Um, Miss America, can you explain what that was with Mr Maine?" Lithuania asked timidly, hoping the younger nation wouldn't snap at him.

Luckily for him, America immediately calmed herself and looked to him. However, now she looked drained. "Surely you know the signs," she said wearily.

Lithuania looked confused for a moment, but then realization struck his face, and he asked, "What was he remembering?"

America closed her eyes as if to keep herself under control. She didn't say a word.

"What is it, mon ami?" This time France spoke up.

"The War of 1812, more specifically the burning of Washington D.C. in 1814," America answered grimly. "He was caught in the middle of it, and had to witness it all firsthand."

England and Canada flinched.

"And you didn't find help for him aru?" China accused. When America glared scornfully at him, he choked on his words.

"Ever since I have learned he had PTSD, I have been trying to find help for him, but then some idiots I have the misfortune of working with kept me too busy to do so. So the only thing I'm able to do to keep the memories at bay is to record my and Daniel's voices, and so he can actually sleep at night! By the way, you seem to be one to talk China."

"Huh?!"

"Despite being one of the oldest nations here, you act just like a spoiled rotten child who whines like the world is ending if he doesn't get his way. I doubt you would understand this, because you're so wrapped up in your own views that you refuse to acknowledge what's right in front of you. So, as a result, the only immature country, or countries in this case, is you and almost every single one of you in this room.

"You take pleasure in bullying people over their misfortunes, especially misfortunes which was not of their fault. I never thought you would become so pathetic, and I truly am an unfortunate woman to be working with the likes of you."

"W-What?!"

"Don't look at me like that," America spat hatefully. "Clearly you forget what I'm capable of doing, and I will be more than happy to decimate you from the face of the earth if you even insult my family or my people again. I can take your insults, like I have all my life, but insult my children or my people, and I will be more than happy to show you a mother's wrath. Also, a couple of my children aren't exactly fond of those who insult me in turn, so I'm willing to let them do whatever they wish to you if you continue to act this way."

China was as pale as snow. "You wouldn't..."

"I can and I will, and that will make one less person to have to deal with," America remarked cruelly.

The superpower turned to leave, but stopped at the door to glare at the nations, including her own older brother, who bullied her. "Unlike you, I am not a woman of favoritism, and I refuse to start right now. Until tomorrow nations."

With that, she left to get her son home, leaving a surprisingly silent room.

Germany glared at his older brother. "Vhat have jou done?"


	57. My Broken Sunflower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

Russia gazed down at his sleeping daughter, his purple eyes solemn as he saw the tear-stains on her flawless face. America had told him that poor Anastasia suffered from nightmares because of her high rate of domestic violence, and usually her mother's presence helps keep those nightmares away.

Clearly, despite their major differences, Russia and Alaska were no different from each other.

Russia wanted to see if his presence would do the same, but even still, he wasn't prepared to deal with the horrific screams that erupted from Alaska's mouth as the nightmare hit her like a frank train.

Now, like Russia, Alaska was a very strong girl, and it took a lot of strength on Russia's part to keep her from hurting herself.

"Alaska," Russia called out, and when he received no response, he called out, "Anastasia!"

That was enough to wake the girl up, and she stared at her father with wide, horrified purple eyes, his eyes.

"Папа (Papa)?" Anastasia called, breathing hard.

"Where does it hurt Sunflower?" he had asked, his voice gentle and even fatherly, something no one would think Russia was capable of.

However, Alaska just pointed to her chest, right where her heart was located, then to her throat, and finally to her head, sobbing a little. She was shaking too, and it was virtually impossible for Russia to not feel his heart take a sharp blow from the sight.

This was his daughter after all.

So he took the child into his arms, pressing her head to his own chest so she can listen to his heartbeat. Alaska didn't pull away in any way, not like the others, in fact she clung to him, like he would disappear if she let go. In the process, using the knowledge that Alaska loves listening to a lullaby in Russian, Russia did just that, watching and feeling his daughter relax and drift back off into the world of sleep.

As she slept, Russia sensed the child's mother come into the room and sat in the chair opposite Russia. Her icy eyes pierced through Russia, tense, but she didn't say a word.

"She will sleep peacefully da." Russia stated, unaffected by America's stare. He had long since gotten used to it. Though even he had to admit he understood where she was coming from.

"I hope," she replied, finally glancing at the sleeping Alaska before she returned it to Russia. "However, let me warn you; If you place my daughter in any danger, any kind at all, I will rip your heart from your chest and rip it to pieces with my bare hands."

Russia seemed unaffected on the outside, but inside he cringed. It a short period of time he learned that America always followed through with her threats, and she knew his weakness, which made matters worse for him. However, instead of letting that fear pass through, Russia met America's stare with his own.

"You would honestly think I would bring harm to my own daughter?" he asked.

America didn't falter. "I have no doubt."

That shouldn't have hurt him, but it did. However, Russia knew he had to prove to his daughter's mother of his worth.

"Don't play stupid Amerika, you and I both know Alaska needs me in her life da?"

This time America's lips thinned, but she didn't bother to deny it. Got her.

"Fine, but remember that I'm only doing this for my daughter's sake, not yours," she reminded.

Russia had no doubt. However, he wouldn't have it any other way, for that was the reason why she interested him so much to begin with.


	58. No Care in the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by OfficialBookOwl on Wattpad*

The landscape was beautiful, the land stretching on for miles as far as the Baltics, Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia, could see.

They wished to visit America during their small vacation, and she wholeheartily agreed, but said that she was going to be visiting her son, Wyoming, in the meantime.

"I hope you don't mind?" she asked, appearing uncertain.

"That's perfect Miss America! Thank you!" Lithuania had said. In fact, he wanted to see what the other states were like, including Wyoming. So did Estonia and Latvia.

When he first met Wyoming, he was pretty cold, but Lithuania could see that he was a different man when around his family. Depending on the winter coats he's often seen wearing, Wyoming must have a cold climate.

He never had any idea how close to the truth he was.

As soon as they landed in the small airport, America looked at them sternly. "I hope you brought your heaviest clothing?"

Estonia blinked. "W-What for?"

"This." America opened the airport door to the outside, and a ruthless blast of strong, below freezing wind came in and swept over the Baltics. The trio shivered, turning blue for a moment before America closed the door.

"Wyoming isn't known as one of the coldest states in the world for nothing," America explained. "And you didn't bring any heavy clothing, did you?"

Shamefully, the three shook their heads.

"Then you three better be ready to run, because thankfully for us our ride is nearby." The Baltics shivered again at the thought, but nodded and braced themselves.

They hoped they had a warm fire waiting for them at Wyoming's house.

~~~

The heating of the car managed to serve as that much needed fire, because the Baltics were freezing like all Hell. The driver, a man in his late fourties or early fifties, glanced back at them in sympathy and had turned his heater up to the near maximum, then turning to America with a questioning look.

America seemed to give him a weary look. "I thought they brought their clothes. Either that, or it completely slipped my mind to inform them of this."

"Well, to be fair Miss, it didn't start snowing until this morning," the driver told her.

"Still, I should've known the winter season was here," America persisted.

The driver didn't say another word, even when they finally arrived at Wyoming's little farm. He parked as close to the house as he dared, before he helped America get the luggage inside the house and eventually the ice blocks that were the Baltics.

Thankfully for the Baltics, there was a warm fire in the house, and a soft pair of lovable, big dogs.

~~~

The next day, the Baltics realized how beautiful the countryside of Wyoming appeared. The snow covered any and all signs of the ground, seemingly going on forever. The trees around the house were decorated with it, and the forest was like a small sanctuary. The mountains in the far distance also seemed to add to the natural beauty around them.

The countryside of America truly was beautiful. It was a shame though that many foreigners didn't bother to visit those areas of the country.

Right now, Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia were watching the mother and son ride horses across the farm, clearly having the time of their lives, while the latter's dogs, Astrid and Buddy, ran alongside them. America had a big smile on her face, one of pure happiness, while Wyoming was also smiling, though not as big. The both of them were dressed in their heaviest and warmest winter clothes, and the cold was turning their cheeks and noses bright pink.

It was wonderful watching those two pretend they did not have a care in the world, and the trio inside the warm house wished that was the case.

After all, America had said herself that she'd rather spend the rest of her eternal life in her own country and spending as much time as she could with her children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist writing about people's reactions to Wyoming's winters. For those of you who do live in Wyoming, this is something you understand perfectly.


	59. Novel

No one thought they would live long enough to see this.

America, of all people, _reading_.

Her huge crystal blue eyes were scanning over the words in the novel she had in her hands as she patiently waited for the meeting to start. Because the book's cover was completely black, the other nations couldn't determine the title of the novel.

Then one of the countries that hates America *coughcoughIrancoughcough* decided to try to get on her nerves.

"What 'cha reading fatty?" he asked mockingly, only to frown when America didn't respond in either way. If she heard him, she was doing an excellent job in ignoring him. Iran continued trying to gain her attention, but not once did America acknowledged his existence.

In all honesty, America wasn't going to waste her time with a brat like Iran, who she will be happy to teach a lesson to if he continued to insist. However, she wouldn't give him what he wanted, so it was best to ignore him.

Finally, Iran had enough and, acting like the immature brat he is, knocked the book out of America's hands. He was about to smirk in triumph until America, unsurprised and undetered, walked over to her fallen book, retrieved it, and started reading once more.

Finally understanding, Iran gave up and walked back to his seat, sulking like a kid who had his favorite toy taken from him. How pathetic.

"Um, Miss America?" Lithuania's voice called, and America looked up, smiling gently.

"Yes?"

"What's that book called?"

"Oh, you've noticed?" Upon Lithuania's nod, America continued. "It's called Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte."

Nearby, England choked on the tea he was in the process of drinking.

"Is everything alright Mr. Kirkland?" America asked, glancing up at her former caretaker.

"Y-Yes, everything's fine," he answered, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Ever since they learned America was actually a woman, the nations had a cruel wakeup call, especially when they learned the America they thought they knew didn't exist in the first place, and the America before them was so, so different. While polite, she was also very hostile and distrusting, except for a select few, like Japan and even Lithuania, but that was all.

America also began referring to England as Mr. Kirkland or just England, not Iggy or Artie. She did the same to the rest of the nations. Hell, she was even polite but indifferent towards Russia, who also seemed to be secretly disturbed by America's true personality.

Now, everyone realized what they had, and now, it was gone.

Satisfied with his answer, America returned her attention to Lithuania. "I've always loved this story, and it's virtually impossible to not sympathize with Jane Eyre. If you want, I can lend you the book after I'm finished. I don't want to spoil it for you."

Lithuania smiled shyly. "T-That would be wonderful Miss."

Smiling back, America returned to her book, once again ignoring the stares of everyone on her.


	60. The Pharmacist

Even when almost physically three years of age, Louisiana was now starting to forget what comfort even felt like.

The yellow fever was killing off many of her citizens, and at her young age she was already seeing them die one by one. Her mother didn't know what to do to save her poor baby, even though she too wasn't feeling well. That, and the fact that she had been crying for days, fearful that she was going to lose another child.

Lose another child? Louisiana didn't understand what her mother meant at that time.

Then the door to her hospital room opened, revealing the tall, firm figure or the French immigrant, Louis Joseph Dufilho. His warm brown eyes gazed at Louisiana as he approached her bedside, took out a clean porcelian cup, and filled it with medicine. With her back pressed against the pillows, Louisiana was able to drink it without any problem.

But of course, even Dufilho knew that wasn't going to help her. What would help her was if he managed to cure most, if not all, her citizens.

But yellow fever was an incurable disease, and not even the most skilled of doctors were able to find a cure for it.

But Dufilho refused to let that stop him.

"What if you can't find a cure?" Louisiana had asked him once. "So many doctors have failed in zhe past."

"Zhat won't stop me," Dufilho replied. "And like I told you before, zhis city is my home as well, and I'd rather be damned zhan die knowing I could have done somezhing about it, and you know zhat, Magnolia."

Louisiana nodded weakly. Yes, she did know, even from the moment he first stepped foot on her lands. He wasn't like most doctors, or rather a pharmacists, and she somehow knew he was going to prove that to her in a short amount of time.

That was one of the many things she admires about him, and if she didn't know any better, he could've really been her father.

Dufilho actually teased Louisiana sometimes, though he always did it out of his good nature. He also didn't care that she was a state personification, the daughter of America's and France's personifications. Hell, he still treated her like a fellow human being, something most people wouldn't do if they had learned of Louisiana's actual nature.

He would sometimes carry her too, like she was his actual daughter.

Louisiana always to love burying her face into his shirt, inhaling his homey scent which was always so comforting. It was always something she wanted to feel from a father, despite understanding her mother's situation, and now it was coming in the form of Louis Joseph Dufilho.

Until he finally married and had children of his own.

Louisiana knew he had never forgotten her, but it was better for the both of them if they let each other go. He didn't want to risk her, while she didn't want to put him into a danger she wouldn't be able to protect him from until she was physically older.

But she still sent him letters and a couple of gifts, asking for nothing in return, and she kept that up until Dufilho finally passed away.

And even still, she wondered what it would be like to have been born his daughter.

~~~

"I knew I'd find you here," Louisiana heard a familiar voice say from behind her. She didn't jump or even felt surprised, for she knew her mother, America, would find her here eventually.

"Hello Maman," she greeted with a smile before continuing to look around the pharmacist shop that used to belong to Dufilho. It was still here, even after two-hundred years, and Louisiana had never been more thankful. At least she still had this part of him.

"You miss him," America commented.

"I do, so much." Louisiana turned back to look at her mother, eyes probably shining with unshed tears. "Zhere's never a day where I don't miss him."

America just sadly smiled before placing a comforting hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I never doubted that you have. But I think he's very proud of you for how far you've come."

Louisiana nodded, now allowing the tears to spill over. How she hoped that was the case. She may not care for her own biological father, Dufilho's opinion mattered more, right next to her mother's.

And she was sure that wouldn't change.


	61. Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

New Mexico was only a child when she met Billy the Kid, the famous teenage outlaw of the late 1800's.

She still remembers him like it was only yesterday. Billy was born as Henry McCarty in 1859, nine human years after New Mexico herself was born, to a woman named Catherine McCarty and an unnamed late husband in New York, but Henry moved with his mother and younger brother, Joseph, to many territories in America, eventually stopping in New Mexico, where Catherine eventually died of tuberculosis when Henry was only fifteen.

New Mexico herself had been physically two years of age when she met the boy.

She had been trying to buy food from the local marketplace, but due to her age a lot of shopkeepers turned her away. She didn't know when Henry spotted her, but before she knew it, he was in front of her.

"What's wrong?" he had asked her.

New Mexico remembered telling him of what she was trying to get, and, to her surprise, he actually stole them for her. He was caught though, but not before he gave New Mexico the food. Of course, no one saw her with it, and she knew better than to waste it, so she took it home anyway, and never told her mother of where it came from.

Since then, Henry began to get into even more trouble, eventually earning him the nickname "Billy the Kid". Of course, people spread horrible rumors about him, but New Mexico knew he was just doing what he had to do to survive. He had been born into a very violent time, and it was kill or be killed, so New Mexico understood he had no other way of living.

Of course, she never spoke to him again after he stole food for her. She supposed he never had the time to or just didn't remember her.

New Mexico also had never been more disappointed in the lawmen, who often killed for their own amusement. If people even saw what Billy the Kid had been going through--and had the brains to put themselves in his shoes--they would understand that the boy had been the innocent one among all this chaos.

That was how the Wild, Wild West worked.

Even after Billy the Kid passed away at the young age of twenty-one, New Mexico never forgot him. He was also created one of the biggest regrets New Mexico would live with as long as she was alive.

Not stepping in sooner and helping him.


	62. Reincarnation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

"Amerique?"

Said woman looked up from the papers she was reading. "Yes?"

France, for once in his entire life, seemed very reluctant to say what it was he wanted to say, and America raised an eyebrow at this. Finally, the older nation seemed to suck it up and spit the words out.

"Can people be reincarnated?"

America kept her eyebrow up. Of all the things she had been expecting France to say, that was the least expected.

"What has brought this up?"

"Lisa."

"Lisa?"

"Your citizen. She looks exactly like my Joan," France answered, his eyes downcast and distant. "I just wanted to know if she could be Joan's reincarnation."

"And why haven't you gone to England for this, or Romania, or any other member of the Magic Trio?" America questioned, suspicious. "As far as I'm concerned Mr. Bonnefoy, I'm the last person you should be asking about reincarnations."

"And as far as I'm concerned Ms. Jones," France began, baring his teeth at America. "You wouldn't be here today without Lafayette on your side, without _my_ help."

"And I'm perfectly aware," America replied calmly. "Also, I'll have you know that I never wanted you to get involved in my problems to begin with, even though my people have indeed needed your help, and I am thankful that you brought Monsieur Lafayette to us, but I'm afraid you're getting out of line Mr. Bonnefoy. Nonetheless, you never answered my question."

France once more glared at her. "Do you honestly take me for a fool?" he asked, offended. "Zhanks to Matthieu, we have all learned zhat you are able to see zhe spirits of all kinds."

America made a mental note to force her ex-brother into one of her extreme haunted houses later.

"Well, it's not like you ever took my own word for granted, is it Mr. Bonnefoy?"

Finally, France flinched.

"Now, I'll have you know that it was partially my fault for the French Revolution happening, for you participating in my war cost you a lot of much-needed money, but then again you can thank that gluttonous king and reckless queen of yours for sending your country so far into debt. If they hadn't done those things, then maybe the people would've worked something else out, something that wouldn't have put their family's life in danger, something that wouldn't have led to the Reign of Terror.

"However, you believed I was fully responsible, and don't you dare tell me that I've heard wrong, for I've heard you talking behind my back about it on more than one occasion, completely taking the blame off of yourself so you could make yourself look good. Basically, had I still hated you Mr. Bonnefoy, I would angrily comment how you are lower than the dirt beneath my fingernails."

America still felt nothing as she regarded France. "So, give me a good reason why I should answer you Mr. Bonnefoy, because for all I know, you may use this information for corrupt motives, and perhaps to give Lisa off to a trafficking ring, and I can't have that." She fingered the gun in her blouse.

Once more, France flinched, adding in a recoil. However, once again, America felt nothing for him. He destroyed that so long ago now, and even he knew that he would never get that back, no matter how hard he fought. Though, unfortunately for him, he wasn't making things better with that attitude of his.

Though, after many minutes of complete silence, America narrowed her eyes in annoyance and began to gather up her papers.

"What are you doing?" France asked, alarmed.

"If you won't answer me Mr. Bonnefoy," America began coldly, "then I don't believe I should give you what you want." She then started to walk out the door.

"W-Wait!"

America paused in the doorway, waiting, albeit with an impatience she doesn't normally have.

"Make it quick," she ordered.

She thought France wouldn't respond again, but then he continued. "I know I've been horrible to you Amerique, and I truly do regret what I have done. Please, I just want to know. Zhat's all. If you tell me, I'll be on my way, and I'll never ask anyzhing of you again."

America turned around to regard the older nation. Clearly he looked downcast and regretful, but she still felt nothing. Had this been in the past, she would've forgiven him, but he threw away every chance she gave him, so why in the name of Mother Gaia should she do so now?

"Fine," she replied. "Yes, reincarnation can happen in many ways. People, animals, and plants can be reincarnated as another lifeforms, and, in this case, it appears that Lisa is a very rare case. From what I've learned, she does seem to be the reincarnation of the doomed Joan of Arc. Quite obvious too, now, by your leave."

America was glad that France didn't stop her from leaving.


	63. Rosemary

Did you know, before Massachusetts fell in love with a spirit of the water, he had a human lover?

Her name was Rosemary. Rosemary Kennedy, who is also known as "The Forgotten Kennedy".

Rosemary was the eldest daughter and third child to the Kennedy family, and was known as the more "retarded" one in the family, which was caused from a loss of oxygen at birth. Because of this, Rosemary struggled in school and had a very low IQ, but Massachusetts fell in love with her anyway.

Rosemary was a very innocent girl, and Felix loved that about her. She loved it whenever he laid a French kiss on her cheek, when he danced with her, when he would take her on simple dates, and, most of all, that he didn't care that she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

Of course, Felix was aware that her father, Joseph, didn't really approve of the relationship, but he could go fuck himself for all he cared.

Though, as the years passed, things took a turn for the worse.

Rosemary started becoming much more irritated, rebellious, and even started to suffer from rapid and violent mood swings. Of course, only Felix was able to calm her, and he had a feeling it was only going to get worse from there.

Sadly, he was right.

Joseph, frustrated with his daughter, decided to have a labotomy performed on her to "heal" her, and without Rosemary's or Felix's consent. Joseph never told Felix of the labotomy until he visited Rosemary one day afterwards.

He was horrified at what he saw.

Rosemary was a shell of her former self; she now had a mental capacity of a two-year-old, she could no longer walk, and could no longer even speak. However, she recognized Felix, and cried when she saw his tears, and they held each other until they had no more tears to shed.

Afterwards, Felix was walking towards the Kennedy house, his entire being clouded over with rage.

How could he do this?

Why his daughter?

What did Rosemary do to deserve this?!

_ **WHY ROSEMARY?!** _

Felix knocked on the door, sensing Joseph's wife coming towards the door. As soon as Rose opened the door, she almost immediately closed it.

"M-Mr. Jones?" she squeaked.

"Where is Joseph?" Felix growled, keeping his wide eyes on the terrified woman.

"N-Not here." Rose tried to close the door, but she yelled out in horror when Felix screamed,

"WHERE IS HE ROSE?!"

Shakily, Rose pointed to the living room, and Felix didn't bother being kind to the woman as he stormed into the house. As soon as he arrived to the living room, Joseph stood up as soon as he saw Felix.

"Mr. Jones, what--" Felix grabbed Joseph by the neck, crushing his windpipe.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't snap your neck Mr. Kennedy," Felix hissed, like a demon about to unleash Hell on Earth. "One. Good. Reason."

Joseph clawed at the state's arms, desperate for air, but Felix only tightened his grip.

"Do you realize what you've done?!" he spat. "Do you realize what you've destroyed?! Well, do you Joseph?!!"

"I...I..."

"Mr. Jones, please!" Rose begged, pulling at Felix's arms, but Felix pushed her away, causing her to hit the wall with tremendous force.

"You disgust me, Joseph Kennedy, both you and your whore of a wife!" he shrieked, now aware that tears were streaming down his cheeks. "You're a disgrace to all fathers everywhere and you!" He turned to Rose. "You are an embarrasment to all mothers everywhere, and my own mother!! Why did Rosemary have to be born to parents like you?"

"Mother? Father?" Eunice Kennedy, who heard the commotion, came to investigate to see her sister's lover in the living room, clearly trying to kill her father. She rushed over to him. "Mr. Jones, calm down please!"

"No, he must pay!" Felix screamed, until Eunice took his face into her hands.

"Felix, do you really think Rosie would want this?" Eunice was close with Rosemary, and she wasn't happy with her father for doing such a thing to her sister, but she didn't want her sister's lover to do this to their father, even if he deserved it.

This made Felix think, and, slowly, he released Joseph, who collapsed to the floor, coughing. He glared down at the man. "Consider yourself lucky Kennedy, that your daughter was here to stop me, for next time, you won't be so lucky."

As soon as he left the house, he spat on both the man and his wife.

~~~

Of course, the man didn't tell the truth to not only the public, but also to his children. He made up a lie that Rosemary was now working as an elementary school teacher and wanted to live a secluded life, and Felix had been tempted to go back and kill the man for real, but held himself back, and just focused on being there for Rosemary.

Rosemary, unlike her siblings, eventually died from natural causes when she was 86, and Felix tried to make her remaining days as happy as possible. He was still heartbroken that she was no longer the woman he fell in love with (and don't get him wrong he still loves her), but he tried not to cry in front of her, because his tears would both confuse and hurt Rosemary.

How could Joseph do this? What did Rosemary do wrong?

Twenty years after the lobotomy, with both Joseph and Rose not visiting her, Rose finally came to visit her daughter. Felix blocked her way into the building.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked darkly, glaring at the woman who even embarrassed his mother with what she did. Of course, he was aware that Rose never forgave her husband for doing this to Rosemary, but other than that she didn't even bother.

"Mr. Jones, I just wish to visit my daughter, is that a crime?"

Felix glared at her, and Rose slumped.

"Please Mr. Jones, I know I'm a terrible mother, but can you at least let me try to fix what I've done?"

Felix said nothing for several long moments, before he sighed. "Fine, but I will warn you only one time, so make sure you're listening carefully. Rosemary has not forgiven you for what you've done, so don't say I didn't warn you."

Rose didn't complain.

Turns out Felix wasn't wrong, because when Rosemary saw her mother, her reaction was anything but happy. She screamed and hit Rose, angry that she was never there for her when she needed her. She may have changed, but she never forgot what her parents had done to her.

After that, Rosemary refused to spend time with her mother, and at a swimming pool one time, one of the nuns who care for Rosemary requested that she join her mother in the pool, but she refused, and instead stared at the wall like a "punished child".

Felix remembered shaking his head in repulsion at Rose, that action saying, "Look at what you've created."

Even after Rose and her husband passed away, he never forgave them for what they did.

More times than not, Felix wished he put Rosemary out of her misery long ago, but could never bring himself to do it. He didn't want to see the look of horror and confusion in Rosemary's eyes if that happened, so he stayed with her until she finally grew old and passed away in peace.

He sobbed in the arms of Aqua, his second love, that day, so hard that he cried himself to sleep.


	64. The Scars I Will Always Bare

Washington D.C., or Daniel Jones as you know him, was not having a good day. His mother, Emily, had fallen ill again from the degrading economy and was unable to attend the world meeting, so he decided to go in her place.

Now, normally Daniel is professional and able to keep a level-head in the most pressuring of situations and even people, but now he wanted someone to shoot him.

When he tried presenting something that could help with the pollution in the air (his mother's idea, though Daniel had helped her with the project), the other nations started to think that it would be another of America's "stupid" ideas and openly began mocking him behind his back. It took every last bit of Daniel's self-control to not shoot one of them, and goddamn was the thought tempting.

However, the day got worse from there, because Cuba, who enjoys tormenting America at any chance he gets, attacked Daniel when he least expected it.

The older nation (how is that possible?) pounced on him, resulting in him hitting his head on the unforgiving floors, and while Cuba straddled him like he was an animal, pain shot through his skull. By now, Daniel's head hurt too much for him to actually push Cuba off of him.

"What's the matter fatty? Can't handle a little weight?" he mocked as he punched at Daniel, who was trying to protect his face through his pounding head, all while working to get the disgraceful nation off of him. Thankfully he succeeded, but Cuba's hand caught at his shirt, ripping it from his body and exposing his horrific burn scars for all the world to see. A cup of water from the table near him also spilled on his face, wearing away at the makeup.

Upon seeing the scars, Cuba's face turned green and he immediately ran to the nearest trash can to vomit what he had for lunch. The sound of it was ominous, but Daniel couldn't bring himself to focus on that.

The room was deathly silent, and Daniel felt the horrified eyes of the nations on him. Calmly, he stood up, grabbed a handkerchief, and wiped away the water and makeup from his face, exposing the huge scar that ran from his forehead, down to his right eye, and to the rest of the burns. Well, there was no hiding from them now.

Hopefully his mother won't kill him and hide his body somewhere later for this. Her anger was already terrifying enough!

His blue eyes now cold and piercing, Daniel looked straight at England and Canada, who were trying--and failing--to not throw up at the scars. "What's the matter?" he asked coldly. "Aren't you two happy at what you've created?"

Both nations looked stricken.

"W-What are you saying Ameri--"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten that day," Daniel interrupted, slowly becoming irritated with his mother's former caretaker. "My family and I remember like it was only yesterday, and these scars will forever remind me of that day. Does a burning capital in the early 1800's ring any bells?"

Finally realization dawned on the two nations. "The War of 1812," Canada whispered.

"That's right, _Uncle_," Daniel spat, watching with bitter satisfaction as Canada stared at him with confusion and even horror.

"U-Uncle?"

"You were not as smart as I thought you would be my dear uncle." Daniel said the last three words with venomous sarcasm. "I know you saw me burning alive that day, so let me ask you this; Do you remember a little toddler who looks like America who was covered completely in flames and screaming in agony as they licked his frail and tiny body?"

If it was possible, more color drained from his uncle's face. "Y-You're that...that child?!"

Daniel clapped with mocking delight. "And he finally gets it! Looks like you're not as empty-headed as I thought, but then again, it took some hints to get you to understand, so I can't credit you for that."

"But that's impossible! How did you turn into a child?" More questions, questions Daniel was going to make Canada regret asking, and hopefully this won't led to his mother murdering him somewhere where no one could save him.

"Did you even do your research about the state governments? Think of Europe and even Asia; Why do they not have personifications of those continents? Oh, that's right! They do not have their own governments! Does that ring another bell?"

The temperature had now gone down many degrees, but Daniel didn't notice it. He just continued to stare at the people who created that hell in 1814, that horrible night he had to feel pain and agony at an early age. Now, these horrific scars will live with him as long as he was alive, and, in order to prevent any repulsion among anyone, including his own family, Daniel took to wearing pants, long-sleeved shirts, gloves, and even make-up.

It was also so he could protect his younger half-siblings' fragile innocence, and Maine; poor, poor Maine had already been too traumatized by that day. If he even sees a hint of these scars, he'll go ballistic.

It took most of the states, including Texas, to keep Maine restrained as he screamed and wailed into the ground, a sound Daniel didn't want to hear again.

"T-The states are...personified?" This time the personification of the United Kingdom spoke up, looking sickly pale. If Daniel didn't know the man, he would've felt sorry for him.

If.

"To answer your previous question: Oh yes, that was me who you almost killed, and you nearly killed my father, your own brother my dear uncle." Daniel didn't bother to keep out the anger in his voice as he smiled cruelly, all while making sure to not mention his mother's true gender. "I am not America, but the capital you tried to burn down out of spite for my father.

"I am Washington D.C."

"Zhat's impossible!" Daniel turned his cold gaze to Germany, the only man who he can say he almost respects, but in the end he was just as guilty as the others here, expect for a select few, like Japan, Lithuania, the other Baltics, the Nordics, and even Ukraine. "Capitals cannot be personified!"

"Do I look like I care to you Ludwig?" Daniel asked indifferently. "I will let you believe what you want, but I am here, standing before you, telling you a truth you've been asking for. Oh, and Cuba?"

Cuba froze, especially when Daniel's cold eyes pierced through him.

"Be happy I'm not going to kill you, but I will leave you off with a small warning." Daniel slowly approached the terrified man and tilted his chin, looking straight into his disgusting soul. "Now, let's see...You don't seem to need an eye."

Before anyone could understand what had happened, Cuba's eye was in between Daniel's fingers.

The man's screams echoed throughout the room, as the empty socket where his eye used to be began to bleed profusely. He rolled all over the ground in agony, clutching the source of his pain, all while an indifferent Daniel watched.

"That will be your warning little bastard, and if you ever threaten my father again, let's just say you'll be regretting your ability to see, and I have no problem in making you blind permanently like the man-whore you are," Daniel threatened as he crushed the eyeball in his hand, letting the crushed stump fall to the floor.

Turning to the other nations, who were watching the scene unfold with horrified shock, he said, "I believe we are finished here, so you are all free to leave. However, let me give you your own warnings before you go. We Americans are known to take threats very seriously, and most of the time we carry out those threats, so if I were you I'd think wisely if you wish to keep a body part or organ intact."

Then the ice cold Daniel became the professional and fun man in half a second. "Have a good day," he said before leaving.

Then, just seconds later, the meeting room was in chaos, especially on what this could mean, but out of all of them, England and Canada were most horrified.

_They created those scars. They almost killed **children, children that could be their own.**_

~~~

"I'm sorry Mom, it wasn't my intention for them to find out. Cuba ripped my shirt open to reveal the scars, so I didn't have a choice but to tell part of the truth," Daniel said to his bedridden mother.

Just after he got to his mother's small and simple home (one that she resides in most of the time when nations aren't visiting her), Daniel knew he had no choice but to inform her of what has happened. Of course, America wasn't in the least bit happy, but not once did she yell or glare at him.

"You're not angry Mom?" he had asked.

"I would be lying if I said I'm pleased," America admitted, "but I understand why you did it, so I can't get too angry with you on that. Besides, the nations were bound to find out sooner or later."

"Something tells me that this is going to turn chaotic real fast," Daniel said, biting his lip in agitation.

America sighed. "I see it too, right in the form of the nations."

Now it was Daniel's turn to sigh. What the hell has he gotten his family into?


	65. Screams of the Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!!: 9/11 fic, so there will be mentions of blood and gore, suggestive themes, and intense violence. If you can't handle any of those, please leave.

No...

This can't be...

Not her children...

Not her people.

Please, anything but them.

America--had she been aware of this--didn't know how she was still standing. She didn't remember being in the middle of a presentation when suddenly, pain shot through her. It was so intense that America stopped breathing and froze altogether, blood staining her dark blue blouse. If anyone noticed, they didn't at the moment.

"A-America?" Canada asked uncertainly, slowly standing and walking towards his sister, all while reaching a hesitant hand out.

America didn't hear him. In fact all she could hear where the screams of pain and horror from her people, her son and daughters screaming and moaning in agony, and her horrified children wondering what was happening. The twin tower was on fire, and she felt the smoke rise in her lungs, cutting off her airways, and by now blood was making its way to her mouth.

Because of this, all America could do was watch in horror and pain as the building burned, where sometimes people on the upper floors of the North Tower would jump to their deaths to avoid burning alive. She wanted to scream to them, plead with them to stop, but she couldn't even open her mouth without coughing up blood.

Then, minutes later, she understood.

More pain shot through her, more intense than before, and a plane purposefully crashed into the second tower. Then, minutes later, a plane crashed into the Pentagon. As America remained paralyzed in pain, she understood that this was no accident.

It was an attack on her, on innocent civilians, and on her precious children.

Finally, and without any warning, she collapsed to the floor, darkness overcoming her against her will, though the pain was too much.

When this happened, everyone shot from the chairs, which flew back from the force.

"America?!" England almost screamed, hurrying over to the fallen woman. "What hap-"

He froze midway, when he saw an expanding pool of blood form underneath his former colony and a few red droplets escape from her mouth. The green-eyed nation hurried over to America.

"America!" he now screamed, now by her side as he took her into his arms. "What's happened?! America!!"

"Someone turn on a goddamn TV!" screamed someone else, presumably Romano. The sound of someone trying to turn on the TV was heard, but England was more concerned about America, who lay limp and silent in his arms, her blood also staining his clothing, but he didn't care about that at the moment.

"America! Open you goddamn eyes! America!!" England demanded to no avail, as America didn't respond.

"Mon dieu!" France exclaimed, sounding sick, both literally and figuratively.

"Oh Gott, all zhose people!" exclaimed Hungary.

"Ve...Germany, I'm scared!" cried Italy, and for once Germany didn't yell at him.

"Ryker!" screamed Netherlands, who soon ran faster than lightning out of the meeting room, leaving his terrified siblings behind.

England soon learned why America was in such pain.

In New York City, the twin towers of the World Trade Center had been struck by a plane, and ominous smoke was bursting from the North and South Tower. The news anchors, though appearing calm on the outside, were clearly disturbed and just as mortified at the event.

Especially when the people on the upper floors of the tower became so desperate that they jumped from the windows to their deaths. England didn't need to be there to know there were people screaming at the sight of this and watching in horror as the people fell from the building. However, he was horrified when the South Tower collapsed onto itself, and America cried out, shaking in obvious agony.

England, instinctively, drew her closer, hoping that his body could absorb some of her pain.

America was barely awake now, but she didn't seem to be in reality. "R-Ry...ker," she moaned weakly. "My...my chi...children. N-Not...t-them."

Acting like he wasn't there, America tried to drag herself to the door, but failed miserably, as her body protested and she whimpered.

"Don't you dare move woman," England demanded. "You're not going anywhere in that condition."

As if realizing he was there for the first time, America stared at England. "T-The Pen...Penta...gon...F-F-Flight...9...3..."

England stared at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant.

"Ano...another...plane c-c-crashed...into...Penta...gon," America weakly went on, like her former caretaker wasn't holding her or even in front of her. "Flight...93...hi...jacked...heading t-to Washington...D.C., passengers...t-t-tried t-taking back...the plane...crashed in...a field...i-in P-Pennsylvania."

This struck England. Virginia and Pennsylvania were also hurt?! Oh no...

"Verdammit!" cursed an angry Prussia, who then slammed his fists into the table so hard that cracks formed. Those near him jumped away in shock, but quickly recovered after seeing his anger. "Someone call Pennsylvania's state government! I von't stand for zhis!"

With that, the albino nation stormed out of the room, with no one stopping him. In fact, many were either too distracted by the events on the TV or by America's condition to notice.

"Who's done this?"

"Unforgiveable!"

"Who did it?!"

"Come out you coward!"

"SHUT UP!!" England was the one who shouted the last one, and, with that, the entire room was silent once more. America had by now passed out from her wounds, and England was now on his feet, carrying the wounded woman. "We have better things to worry about you bloody wankers. One of you call an ambulance!"

Thankfully that snapped the nations out of their stupor, and one of them began to do what England commanded, all while said man and Canada tried to tend to America's wounds until the ambulance finally arrived and took her away.

~~~

It's been thirteen years now, and every time, on the anniversary, America would feel the scars throb with pain, like all the other scars she possessed. This was the same for her children.

New York had been in horrible shape when his father found him, and the older man did not hesitate to take his son to the nearest private hospital, and even when New York's condition was stabilized, Netherlands did not leave his son's side until the boy awoke and was well enough to leave.

His chest and abdomen were covered in slash-like scars, and even those would throb on the anniversary of their creation.

Virginia was bedridden for weeks, and now has a scar near one of her breasts. Of course, she tried not to think too much of it, but the pain of knowing people died, especially innocent civilians who were just minding their own business, was often too much, and it was at its worst on the anniversary.

Pennsylvania now had a scar on her back, which, like the former three, also throbs on that specific day. Sometimes she would stay home and have more than one moments of silence to offer her condolences to those who would never know.

However, if there was one thing no one would ever do, it was to forget that horrible day.

The day the world stopped turning. When the screams of the dying were not of soldiers or those fighting to help save their country, but innocent, oblivious people who were only trying to do their jobs or heading to their vacation spots or to visit family.

It was why America showed no mercy when her soldiers killed Osama Bin Laden, and she tortured Afghanistan mentally for the same amount of time that it took to find the fuck up of a human being, making sure he regretted pissing off a superpower.

"Be happy I'm sparing your pathetic life, because there are still good people in your country, and I would rather not have to kill them just to make sure you never see the light of day again," America threatened after Bin Laden's death. "Am I clear, Afghanistan?"

"C-Crystal," whimpered the man, who was never the same after all those years of mental torture.

All this time, America allowed people to push her around so she could keep up her male facade, but not anymore.


	66. Sharp Knife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

The terrified screaming of her baby Illinois awoke America from her slumber, and immediately she rushed to his aid, finding an uninvited guest in there.

"And what do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her voice spitting venom.

The man in the room turned to face her, and America wanted to bash his skull in, because the way he was looking at her baby son made her blood boil.

He was looking at Illinois like he was a bug that deserved to be crushed, and the baby's scared form also spoke volumes. With a venomous warning glare to her disgraceful boss, she walked over to the crib and picked up her son, gently rocking him and whispering soothing words into his ear.

Before long, Illinois was only whimpering.

"And what are you doing?" her boss, Andrew Jackson, demanded rudely. America turned to him, finding the man staring at her like she was an abomination. She met his stare without any fear.

"You should already know of what I'm doing Jackson. I am attending to my baby's needs," she answered. "Surely you are smart enough to recognize that?"

Jackson's eyebrow twitched. "I am your boss you ungrateful bitch," he spat. "You will respect me."

America chuckled bitterly. "Me? Respecting you? Don't make me laugh." Now her eyes took on a very dark tone, which made her look extremely sinister to anyone nearby. "You may be my boss Jackson, but if it weren't for that, I would happily remove your head from that miserable neck of yours."

"And what makes you think you can do that?" Jackson asked smugly, arms crossed as he continued to glare at America's son.

"Oh don't worry, I can't do anything to you. But that doesn't mean the government can't do anything about you. You've been digging your own grave for a long while now Jackson, and you didn't know it did you?" America smirked darkly. "Now, I'm just going to wait patiently until you finally seal your fate, and until then I will laugh at all the failures you created during your Presidency."

Jackson was no longer smiling at this point, and it appeared that his face couldn't seem to get any uglier. "And I'll have you know that you are a woman bitch, and if you know what's good for you, you'd shut up and follow my orders."

"Oh yes, I am a woman, but..." America was suddenly behind her boss, a knife dangerously close to his neck, "that doesn't mean I can't kill you. Don't misunderstand me, I really wish to end your pathetic life right here and now because of all the crimes you committed against my mother's people and your verbal abuse towards my children. Those are all things I cannot take lightly, and you are not representing the principles of this country."

"Of course I have!" Jackson replied, clearly offended. "I am simply getting rid of some cockroaches. They should be wiped from the earth, and those slaves should be happy that they have someone to care for them to begin with!"

But then he cried out when America flipped him onto his back, which was a pretty painful landing because he sucked in his breath and wheezed. America glared down at him, her eyes glowing red.

"Say that about my mother's or my people again, and you're a fucking dead man. Touch one hair on any of my children's heads, and you're a fucking dead man. Do you understand Jackson? If you don't, I'll just kill you right now and be done with it, consequences be damned!"

America then held the knife closer to Jackson's neck, so close that blood was drawn. Finally some fear came to Jackson's eyes, and slowly, he nodded in understanding. What America hoped was understanding anyway.

"I thought so." She then removed the knife and walked away, the baby Illinois still in her hold. She then slammed the door behind her before making her way to her youngest children's rooms.

Illinois was giggling with happiness at this point, and America poked him gently on the nose. "Let's go see your siblings, alright?"

The baby just giggled in delight.

~~~

"Mama?" America snapped out of her thoughts when she spotted Ohio and Illinois staring at her with concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes hon," America said with a nod. "I was just remembering something is all."

Ohio and Illinois nodded and left it at that.


	67. Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker from Wattpad*

The first time Finland met Delaware, he had automatically mistaken the boy for Sweden. How could he not? The boy looked exactly like the man for Heaven's sake!

Hell, the boy had much of Sweden's personality and personal preferences, like his crafting hobby and intimidating figure. Though, it was still shocking in itself that this boy was the son of the woman Finland once saw as a son-figure.

Finland was hurt that America lied to him, but he understood where she was coming from. Knowing some of the other nations, and had they known America's true gender around that time, they would've treated her like she was property, as was the case of many women back in those days. She was lucky that her secret was only discovered around this time. However, Finland was shocked that America had a son with Sweden of all people.

And speaking of Sweden, the man fainted after realizing this too.

When America brought Delaware to a meeting, Finland choked on his drink, and the other present nations looked between Sweden and Delaware, unable to tell who was who. The boy then nodded to everyone in greeting, and said, in a perfect Swedish accent:

"Hello, my name is Delaware. It's a pleasure to meet you."

And, once again, chaos ensued, and it took America smashing one of the nations into the table to regain the silence from before.

Now, unlike the other nations, Finland, despite being a little unnerved at America's amount of cruelty towards the nations who discriminated her (a little!), was actually quite proud of her, and he could tell that Sweden and even Denmark were too. Denmark had this impressed look to him, while Norway was attempting to look indifferent at it all. Iceland though looked really confused.

Right now, Delaware and Sweden were making furniture together, with the latter watching the former's progress. Delaware didn't seem to notice and continued on like he was the only person in the room.

"Josef," Finland called. "What was your mother like when you were a child?"

Delaware paused his work, looking up at his father's "wife". "A wonderful woman," he began. "Every time she gave birth to us, the first person we would see was her. Mother gave birth to us without a midwife, and the way we were born is unlike other children."

"How so little one?" Denmark asked. He was currently frozen in place from swinging his trusty ax so much.

If you think about it, it's pretty comical.

Delaware proceeded to explain the details, but, so the Nordics would get a better idea, he held up a painting depicting the birth of one of Delaware's siblings.

It was a beautiful painting, and depicted a sleeping America, but her womb had burst with blue light, and in that light was a silhouette of someone, a male.

All the Nordics were staring at it, and a ghost of a smile appeared on Delaware's face. "Mother was, and still is, a busy woman, so we helped raise each other to make things easier for her. It was bad enough that she's the superpower, especially one who is both feared and hated."

Finland frowned at this, and knew from Denmark's silence that he wasn't happy about this revelation either.

"Sometimes Mother would come home angry, and we knew she needed to be alone for a while. And yes, it was all because most of the nations thought it would be fun to be cruel to her. Why they even became nations in the first place I will never understand. If anything, they aren't fit for it, and they are disgraces.

"Now, I've seen the way they look at Mother, and I'm wondering how they can be so thick-headed. They clearly are in love, but I'd be damned to the ninth level of Hell before I let one of them into Mother's romantic life. Though, maybe I won't be the one doing that, especially with how Mother's treating them now."

Finland left it at that, and looked around to see the conflicted feelings on the other Nordics faces. Sweden's expression didn't change, and although he was intimidating as usual, Finland knew the taller man well enough to know that he was angry at this revelation. Both he and Finland saw America as a daughter-figure, and sure, Sweden was also unhappy that she lied about her actual gender, but even he couldn't fault her.

Unlike so many of those blasted idiot nations, Sweden tried to understand what being a superpower was like, and knew that not only would he probably face so much pressure and stress, but he too might be either loved, feared, or hated, whichever came first.

It truly was heartbreaking how America had to be strong at an early age, and not a lot of nations gave any thought to that!

Norway and Iceland also appeared sad, though the former was more pissed off than anything else. Although he was never close to her, Norway knew there was something amiss in America, and wasn't a fool to the fact that being the only superpower in the world could be the toughest job. In other words, Norway felt terrible for America, as did the rest of the Nordics.

Denmark wasn't afraid of showing how angry he was, and he started thrusting his ax at anything he could see. For once, no one chastised him about it.


	68. Sun and Moon

The morning in Casper, Wyoming was the definition of chaotic, though Wyoming saw no problem with that. He too was excited for what was about to come, as well as the rest of his family.

They were on top one of the tallest buildings in the city, their eclipse glasses on as they watched the moon's progress in the sky. It truly was amazing how, thanks to the sun's rays, they would be unable to see the progress of the moon unless they had their eclipse glasses on. Eventually the sun appeared to look like Pacman, and it surely won't be long before the sun will be barely visible and the moon's appearance would take hold.

It had been a couple of centuries since Wyoming had seen an eclipse in his state, and he still remembers that day like it only happened yesterday. Even though they had no eclipse glasses back then, Wyoming and his family had used the shade of a tree to predict the moon's path across the sun, which at the time was the safest thing they could do without getting their eyes fried.

And even now, this eclipse was exactly like the last one in his state.

"Wow!" cried Hawaii, jumping up and down next to a smiling Alaska. "Pacman's there, Pacman's there!"

"Da!" chimed in Alaska, throwing her arms into the air and jumping up and down beside Hawaii. Wyoming smiled at his younger sisters; it was always one of the moments he treasured the most, when they can forget what's currently happening with the world and their home.

Everyone had been on edge and very, very angry for the past few months, and their mother wasn't in the best of moods either. But who would be after what happened in Charlottesville, Virginia?

Wyoming had never been more disappointed in anyone until now. He couldn't believe just how blind people could be, and their mother looked angry enough to kill someone, more specifically Trump.

Wyoming would've pitied the poor fool if he actually felt more sympathetic, but too bad he had none. In fact, he and his family were eagerly awaiting him to be removed from office after he proved how unreliable he was after the protest aftermath. Of course, Wyoming didn't hate the man, he just didn't find him suitable for the seat of President.

But enough of that. After Wyoming checked the progress of the moon, he felt the air get cooler and cooler, and although he was used to the cold, his siblings were not, so they put on jackets.

It was strange too, how the light was changing. It was like the sun and been replaced with a full moon during daytime, giving everything a blue florescent lighted look.

"We're almost there now!" one of his siblings announced excitedly, clapping their hands together. Looking upwards again with his glasses on, Wyoming saw that the sun was barely peaking through, and a smile burst from his lips. It was almost time.

Then it happened.

First came the cheers of the citizens as the eclipse finally reached totality, and the U.S. siblings took off their glasses to see it themselves. They cheered when they saw the beauty that was a total solar eclipse.

The black moon overtook the entire sun, and the scene around it looked like something out of a painting, with the dark blue sky and clouds and the way the sunlight shone from behind the moon, giving off some red light in the process. The people's cheers could be heard even from where they all were, and then they heard the fireworks. Wyoming glanced down, finding the fireworks exploding in various and vibrant colors.

Many of his siblings though didn't see this, as they were still staring at the eclipse, many of them clapping in delight. Nearby, from the college, a hot-air balloon was released into the sky, but Wyoming didn't look at it for long as the eclipse began to come to an end.

The first parts of sunlight began to peak through as the moon slowly moved, and by then everyone had to look away so their eyes wouldn't get fried. But even as the eclipse ended, the cheers would continue for a couple more minutes before going silent.

The U.S. siblings, however, kept smiling like there was no tomorrow, Wyoming being one of them.

"Wait, where'd Mama go?" asked Alaska in confusion, and Wyoming looked around, realizing their mother was nowhere to be found.

Oh, right, the Spirit Kings of the Sun and Moon come around this time.

Maybe Wyoming should go check on Winter in a little bit once the chaos has died down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man everyone, the solar eclipse in Casper was so cool! I never expected the way it would appear at all, and it really looked like something you would see in a painting, and when it got darker and a little cooler, it was like we were in blue fluorescent light. I wished that lasted for a while longer though, but that still was an amazing sight to behold!


	69. Thirsty Ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Sad-stories2 from Wattpad*

"God damn it it's hot!" Nevada (or rather Zayn) was complaining. He was also in the process of trying to find water, but wasn't doing a very good job of it considering what was happening around this time.

This was the worst drought that could ever have hit the Southwestern states, and by now even New Mexico, Utah, and Arizona were feeling the effects.

They all were thirsty, and by now their siblings were working hard to ensure that some of their citizens adopted the water conservation ideas like California had. In fact, their mother and a few of their siblings were heading their way right now, bringing water.

Though Nevada's complaining was not helping them.

"Be quiet Zayn!" Utah ordered, glaring over at him. "We get that you're thirsty, in fact we all are. So shut your trap and be patient."

Nevada glared back at his half-sister and cousin, but then rolled his eyes before continuing his current search for even a little bit of water nearby.

A knock came at the door, and New Mexico hurried and answered it, finding their mother standing there. She then walked in and placed the water bins on the counter, where the southwest then attacked the bins.

"Don't make a mess now!" America ordered. "We can't waste any of the water, and you know it."

No one complained as they greedily drank their cups' contents. And let's just say that after all this, no matter the reason, they were going to be saving their water, and use the collected amounts for the mundane tasks they do all the time.

Well, at least California wasn't the only one going through this.


	70. Through My Eyes (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

America stared at England with wide, pained eyes. It was at that point that England knew something had gone horribly wrong in the spell, and the other nations and the few states here could see it too. America backed away slowly, shaking in obvious pain, all while her wide eyes remained on England.

"W-" she choked. "What...i...is...t...h...i...s?"

Finally America collapsed to the floor, motionless and unresponsive. That was when chaos ensued.

"America?!"

"What did you do Angleterre?!"

"America? America! WAKE UP DAMN IT!!"

"Mother?!"

"Oh no!"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!!" Upon hearing Germany's scream, all sound disappeared, and the nations turned to the disheveled nation, who glared at all of them. "Stop zhis nonsense! Ve vill not be able to help Amerika if ve are going around arguing like zhis!"

Silence reigned as realization dawned on all of them. Arguing amongst each other was not going to solve anything, and now they have wasted precious time in finding out how to help the unconscious nation.

Speaking of said unconscious nation, America was now being carried by Canada, who had immediately rushed to his sister's aid after she collapsed. He glanced at everyone. "I'm taking her home. Evelyn, can you help me?"

Virginia nodded, now out of her stupor. "Y-Yes!"

The eldest state hurried after her uncle as he carried America out of the room and the building altogether. Meanwhile, the rest of the nations glanced at England, who had remained silent the whole time since whatever spell he casted on America went wrong.

"Explain yourself," Mexico ordered. Although he appeared calm and composed on the outside, in his eyes he was burning with fury.

England once more didn't answer, but the answer was given to the eldest North American nation in his eyes.

Mexico narrowed his eyes. "You tried to deage my sister?!" he screeched, bursting from his chair. The sudden action made England flinch, but Mexico didn't care at the moment.

The green-eyed nation sighed in defeat. "Alright, I-I did. I tried to."

"And why would you do that?"

"Y-You know how America's never talks to me anymore?" England asked.

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm not!" England snapped. "And either way, if you were in my situation, you would understand!"

Mexico pursed his lips. "Oh? Humor me."

"_I_ raised America. _I _was the one who looked after her as best as I could, and yet, I did not know the true America, the one who wants nothing to do with me in her personal life," England began, his entire posture slumped with sadness. "She never talks to me anymore, except when it concerns work, but other than that, she would never say more than two words to me. It's always "Good morning", "Good afternoon", "Good evening", or just "Hello". Nothing more than that!

"In fact, the only reason she allows me to come to her home is so I can spend time with our children, but nothing else."

"I don't see how this has to do with you trying to deage my sister," Mexico uttered.

"I'm getting there! So, I tried to change her back to a child. I wanted to start over with her; get to know her, raise her better, and even try to be better for her. I wanted her trust back, and I was willing to do anything for it."

When a reply came, it wasn't Mexico who gave it. "Now Angleterre, let's hope you did not bring anymore harm to Amerique from your recklessness, or there will be major consequences."

England nodded to France, hoping that wasn't the case.

~~~

Canada was both furious and confused. The first thing he knew he was holding a fully grown and unconscious America, and now he was holding a baby girl, now sleeping peacefully in his arms and the majority of her clothes on the floor before him.

Next to him, Virginia sighed. Canada looked to her. "You know what happened?"

She nodded. "Yes, and thankfully this is only temporary. My father seemed to have cast not only de-aging spell, but also a living history spell. That means that Mother will go through fazes of different time periods as she grew into a country. Unfortunately, she will only have memories of those times only, so she won't recognize you until she reaches her actual physical age for good."

Looking back to the newborn America, Canada was conflicted. He didn't know whether to beat England to a pulp now or later.

The baby stirred, soon opening her eyes to stare at Canada. She didn't cry or made any sound of distress, but it was clear she was trying to determine who he was, and clearly knew he wasn't their mother.

Canada glanced at Virginia, who shook her head. "Let's get her home. Then we can decide what to do from there."

Canada nodded, soon following his niece out of the building.

~~~

Turns out Virginia wasn't lying, because the next day, America became a one-year-old toddler, wearing deer-skin clothing and wearing a small Indian headdress on her head. Her eyes were still confused, and even hostile and distrusting when she gazed at Canada and her children. However, she allowed him to feed her, clothe her, and even bathe her, and she never cried unless she needed something.

She was even bug-eyed at the sight of the modern technology, and spent hours on end poking or playing with the remote and other devises. Canada had to take away all the remotes and what not and even lock the door to the bathroom and bedrooms when America began playing with the facets and even tried to bite a remote.

Even still, Canada forgot how quiet America was as a child, when she wasn't in acting mode that is.

This continued on for two days, where she grew into a two-year-old and, on the third day, a three-year-old. Canada had been cooking breakfast when a three-year-old America came out, her eyes glowing and her hair already reaching her waist.

Canada nearly dropped his plate of pancakes at the sight. Virginia however wasn't in the least bit surprised, and neither were her siblings when they came to visit.

"What is this?" he asked, never breaking the staring contest he was having with his d-eaged sister.

"Mother has supernatural powers," would be his only response. "It should have been obvious to you too, especially with her current abilities as Princess Migisi and the anchor to all spirits."

What else was his sister hiding? Canada knew that if England was here, the man would flip out. Oh, and speak of the devil and he shall appear, a knock came at the door.

The little native girl broke her gaze from Canada to stare at the door, the glow in her eyes turning to a hostile green. Quickly, Canada ushered America out of sight before answering the door. Of course, it was England.

"Yes?" Canada asked, wanting the British representative to leave. After the reckless stunt he pulled, Canada didn't want to do something he'll regret later.

Why couldn't he be like his sister? Why couldn't he be hostile, cruel, and apathetic?

Oh that's right, because he never had to be!

"H-How's America?" asked the visiting nation nervously.

"Fine," Canada answered instantly, just as he felt someone behind his leg.

Looking down, the second eldest North American nation decided he hated his life at the moment. America was right there, staring up at a bewildered England with her glowing blue eyes.

"_White man_," she began, in a language no one except Canada (and the states) could understand, "_you do not bare the skin of our people, and yet you are not like me. Why are you here on these lands? Are you hear to conquer, take this land away from my brother?_"

Canada turned to the hostile child. "_It's alright Migisi. This man will do nothing of the sorts._"

America glanced up at him. She said nothing for a few moments, before, "_Very well then. However, I do not like the way that pale face is looking at me._"

With that, America left and went outside threw the back door, with Maryland and Rhode Island following close behind.

The first time she went outside, Canada nearly had a heart attack, but clearly America knew her way around, and then he remembered that they would explore every part of their mother's land when they were old enough to walk. Migisi always loved the valleys, the forests, mountains, lakes, prairies, and all else the earth contained. Canada guessed that was where she felt unconfined.

England, once America/Migisi had left, turned to Canada. "So it...?"

Canada nodded. "Yes, but thankfully it isn't permanent."

Later that night, Canada almost choked on the water he was drinking when Migisi came back with a deer above her head.


	71. Through My Eyes (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

A month had passed now, and America had grown into a physical thirteen year-old girl, still a colony. She acted like the male America did at that age, but, when she thought she was alone, she was quiet, observant, and cautious even. She wore the Indian garb of Princess Migisi whenever she could, and today was no different.

Her hair had grown to her hips, which flowed gently with the wind as she watched the wilderness pass on through the day. Canada's home was located in the mountains on a peak, and it was his backyard that America loved to go most. Also, every time she went up an age, she would never remember the day before or how she got here.

Canada was glad he was patient, well, as patient as he could be when his sister was concerned.

Right now, America, as little Princess Migisi, stood at the cliff's edge, silently admiring the snow-covered trees and the shining river below. Canada had forgotten that America could spend the entire day with nature and never get bored of it.

"_Migisi,_" Canada called in a Native American tongue. The little princess broke her gaze with nature and turned to him, her expression emotionless, but cautious nevertheless. It wasn't a secret that she didn't trust him, but as he knew the language of their mother's people and her birth name, Canada guessed she had no choice but to answer him.

"_What do you think of the white man?_"

Before she responded, Migisi glanced back at what previously had her attention. "_Me, or you?_"

"_What do you mean?_"

"_I am of the white man, and so are you. So is my brother. So is the man who found me, and the ones he lives near. I suppose I should be relieved to know my brother and I are not the only ones with skin the color of a pale sun. However, I cannot help but notice the change of their culture. They don't seem to treasure lives of any kind._"

Canada said nothing as he stared at his de-aged sister, watching as a slight wind set her long locks to a glide.

"_I fear them, their ways and how they act. No wonder Mother ordered me to disguise myself as a man, or why the chiefs ordered me to keep our enemy at bay._" Migisi looked to Canada, the hopeless look in her eyes tugging at America's heartstrings. "_These men, they frighten me so, but I fear that the man who cares for me cares only for his greed, and I cannot trust him. I fear...that they will turn my own brothers against me soon._"

Even when he still said nothing, Canada doubted he still had to power to perform such a thing.

"_It will come soon, and I must prepare for it when it does. I also sense war will come, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it. If only I can get that man to listen when he visits, then he will understand to look past his greed._"

Was that truly how she thought of England, and of the Europeans, back then, and even today?

"_And what will you do then Migisi?_" Canada asked.

Migisi said nothing for a moment. Then she sighed, a sad and accepting sigh. "_I do not know, but perhaps Mother Gaia can grant me the strength to face the entire world in the years to come. Mother told me great responsibility comes with all power, and that...scares me. I truly envy them._"

"_Them?_"

"_The humans, the way they are just born and then they die, and the animals. I wish I was born a human child or a bird, so I wouldn't have to see the world's horror everywhere I look and fly free. I wish I could be an innocent little girl, caring nothing for responsibilities, and living each day like it's my last. Sadly, I'm afraid I will never have that wish granted, no matter how much I wish for it._"

Silence befell them once more, with Canada once more overflowing with questions. Was that why she decided to act immature all the time, just so she can gain back those lost moments of her childhood? Was that truly how she felt about the others, him included? What else did she hide at this age?

"_Do you understand...that this man who cares for me, knows little to nothing about the real me?_" Migisi asked once more, redrawing Canada's attention.

"_Do you care to elaborate?_"

"_He says he knows what I want, what I need, but he does not,_" Migisi began, watching as a bird flew by overhead. "_He cannot fool me, because underneath all that love and compassion, is a monster waiting for me to be lured into its trap. That's why I cannot trust him with my life, and I fear he will only prove it to me in the future._"

The both of them said nothing after that, not even when the sun finally set and it was time to head in. However, Canada had been forced to leave Migisi outside (which she had no problem with), and watch from his window as she danced a solemn dance to the music of the coming night.


	72. Through My Eyes (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

America is now an adult, though still in colony mode. She seemed really weak lately as well, as she would sometimes crash into things, stumble over thin air, and overall appear dead tired. Canada didn't realize these were symptoms of something he wasn't expecting now, but when his sister collapsed, he knew he had to check.

America's son, West Virginia, knelt by his unconscious mother and placed his fingers on her abdomen, moving around and gently pushing down. When he was done, he looked up at his uncle, a sad but happy smile on his face.

"This is when Mother first became pregnant."

Canada sucked in a breath, unsure of why this surprised him. "With Virginia?"

West Virginia's smile faded into a sad frown. "No, with someone before Virginia."

This confused Canada until months later when America gave birth to a baby girl.

Canada had been checking on America when he saw her womb glowing blue. He stood there, unable to move, and the light exploded, revealing the silhouette of a girl with long, messy hair, a slim figure, and a dress on before she faded into a baby, which then rested itself into America's arms.

The child was clearly not Virginia, as the latter's hair was silky, but this child's hair was messy (like England's), and when she opened her eyes, her eyes were sky blue, America's eyes.

Who was this child?

Just then, America woke to the infant snuggling against her, and looking down, she shot right up, close to dropping the bundle. The suddeness of the movement startled the baby, who began to whimper. Calming down quickly, America gently rocked the child. Soon enough, the bundle silenced.

"Who is that child?" Canada asked Virginia, who also was watching the scene with a sad expression.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you don't know," she began, bringing her uncle out of the room. "That is the Lost Colony of Roanoke, my older sister, Lily."

~~~

It was amazing how everyone seemed to forget about the Lost Colony of Roanoke, and Canada wondered why America never talked about Roanoke, or Lily as she's mostly called.

It should've been pretty obvious to him. The disappearance of her child was not something she could even talk about without emotionally shutting down.

That day happened not too long after the girl's birth.

Canada had brought America to her old colony home the day before, and now that he, Italy, Japan, and even Germany were coming to visit her, all they could see was a hysterical and sobbing America, who was searching every thing she came across with the pace of a madwoman. Cuts and bruises covered her skin, but she didn't seem to care. Her face was swollen with tears, and her dress was torn in various places.

It had been a few days since Roanoke's birth, and Canada realized what this meant.

This had been the time when Roanoke disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again. Now, the North American nation could only begin to wonder about the heartbreak and confusion that his sister was feeling right now.

So, not knowing what else to do without making things worse, the four nations stayed where they were, watching as the heartbroken America searched everything she went by to no avail, until she finally drove herself to exhaustion and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

They took her inside and put her to bed, deciding to come back the next day to check on her.

"Vhat happened to Roanoke?" Germany asked once they were far away enough. He was one of the many nations who were not aware of the existence of the first colony, not that Canada could hold it against him.

He told them what he knew, and by then Germany, Italy, and even Japan were clearly horrified.

"Ve~ What happened to the colonists?" Italy asked, the confusion in his face mixing with horror.

Canada went with the only answer he knew, one that offered more questions than answers. "That's just the thing. No one knows. The only thing search parties found at the scene was the word "Croatoan", which was carved in the fence post, but other than that there was no sign of a struggle or a hurried departure. Unfortunately the search parties were unable to continue searching because of storms."

"What about America?" Italy then asked.

"I assume she was away during that time, and she left Lily in the care of her maids, but when she came back, they were gone, both Lily and the maids. I doubt we're going to get a full answer out of her though."

They wouldn't come close to understanding the grief of a mother who lost her child. A few of America's children considered against talking to their mother about the event.

"Trust me gentlemen, so many of us tried to talk to Mother about the event of my older sister, but every time, Mother would get extremely angry--so unlike her if I might add--and forbid us to ever mention it again," said Virginia sadly. "I can't say that I blame her, but, like you, I wish to know what happened to Lily when the colonists disappeared without a trace."

What happened to the Lost Colony of Roanoke remains a mystery to this day, and even still, there's only one person who may now the truth, and that was America, but how could they get her to talk when she doesn't want to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not kidding about the mystery of the disappearances of the Roanoke colonists. I'm not sure if we'll ever find an answer for their disappearance, but I sure would like to find out.


	73. Through My Eyes (Part 4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

The next few months were...a little intense to say the least. First, just a few days after Roanoke's disappearance, America would be lifeless and even snap at anyone who tried to talk to her during that time. Though, many of those people allowed it to happen, knowing America was only in grief over her daughter's mysterious disappearance. It was also during that time that Canada and some of the nations learned something else shocking.

There were a few more children alongside Roanoke that America had.

San Miguel de Gualdape or Etu, his twin brother St. Petersburg or Sol, Fort San Juan or Isabell, and Ajacan or Alejandro Jones/Fernandez-Carriedo. Then there were Sainte-Croix Island or Ada and Fort Caroline or Caroline Jones/Bonnefoy. Finally there were Popham or Lucian Jones/Kirkland. All of whom died tragically, all while America watched with a broken heart, unable to do anything.

It probably had been the first time in a long time that Canada had seen France in grief. He just realized he had a few more children with America, ones he never knew about, and now it was too late. Has been for years.

As for Spain, he hadn't been been faring any better, especially after hearing of how Ajacan went out. Ajacan sadly starved to death because of the shortages of food in the colony, and no matter how much America tried to breastfeed him, his body would reject the milk. Of course, Canada had never seen that happen when he cared for her, but at the same time he was glad he didn't.

He didn't doubt that America would've been hysterical at this.

Anyway, once America seemingly got over the disappearance of Roanoke, Canada noticed that she was becoming more and more hostile towards England. From looking at her now, she appeared overworked, stressed, and on the verge of exhaustion, but the most striking feature was the rage in her eyes.

It burned so bright that anyone could see it from a mile away, and it would intensify whenever England was mentioned or even seen.

Once, when France, England, and even Spain were visiting, they heard glass breaking and other things being destroyed. The group went to investigate, seeing America in a very foul mood.

"How dare he?!" she snapped, throwing another vase at the wall, which shattered to pieces upon impact. "How can that...that...fool think he owns me? Is that all I am to him?! A way to obtain money?! Oh my god...I'm nothing more to him than a harlot!"

Canada heard someone sharply inhale behind him, and he didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Where's my England?" By now, America deflated and was sitting on the bed, hands buried in her hair. "Where did he go? What is this England?"

Eventually, she realized the four of them there. She glared at England. "Where are you doing here?" she spat.

England didn't answer, either because he had no words or just couldn't speak, Canada couldn't figure it out.

"Get out!" she yelled, throwing a book at him. "Get out of here!"

England was gone faster than the speed of light, and Canada even saw some tears in his eyes. Soon, the other three were following him, as America was getting ready to throw the bed, and no they're not making that up.

As soon as they caught up with the distraught England, France stared at him hard, being serious. "Angleterre," he called. When England didn't answer, the other nation said a little more forcefully, "Angleterre, look at us."

Finally England obliged, and Canada had never seen anything more pathetic in his life, not since that...

That day.

"Do you understand now Angleterre? I may not have known Amerique's true feelings towards you on zhat day, but I was not stupid to zhe fact zhat she was very unhappy. Now, I understand what she meant by "He'll hurt zhem.""

"I do too amigo," Spain came in grimly. "Even you have to admit you've done wrong during that time, and you were too blind to see it. As a result, you made America get the wrong idea and think you cared for nothing but money and that you were going to use her ninos against her. Personally, I can't say I blame her."

England unleashed a sob, and Canada knew he wanted the two men to stop, but unfortunately for him, they did not.

"Even you have to admit Angleterre, you did more harm zhan good to your relationship to America ever since you found her. Not only were you never zhere to watch her grow up, but you began overtaxing her people, so much so zhat zhey couldn't even feed zheir families. However, no matter how much America tried to tell you, you ignored her and just worried about yourself."

"Stop...please..." England begged.

"Non Angleterre, you need to hear zhis. I will admit zhat I wasn't any better, especially after she became a nation, but, as far as I'm concerned, you were zhe worst, as you scared her to zhe point of fearing even more for her children's safety. Although I'll never understand a mother's fear, I can relate to zhat."

"Now, amigo, because of your ignorance, you drove America away, and you will never get her back, no matter how much you try," Spain finished.

Canada almost felt sorry for England. Almost.

~~~

Canada was worried now, because now America started coming out of the room he gave her with bullet wounds, dirt on her, and her fingers frostbitten. She refused to eat whenever Canada tried to get her to, and she didn't seem to recognize him whenever she looked at him. Her eyes were filled with constant worry and stress, sometimes even pain on certain days, until finally she won the Revolutionary War.

"How do you feel about this America?" Canada asked her.

"I'm not proud of it," was her reply.

The other North American nation was stunned. He hadn't been expecting that answer.

"Why's that?"

"Because families have been torn apart on both sides, and there were some men who didn't want to fight," America answered, her eyes sad. "I admire how much they love their country, but I hate that some men can never return to their families now, but...I fear this is far from over."

Fear, sudden and sharp, punched Canada in the chest. "W-Why do you say that?"

"Knowing the England I thought I knew, and even the man who I thought was my older brother, they aren't going to take this lying down, and they are going to try and do something stupid. Probably harm one of my children, and if that happens, I'll never forgive them, never!"

The rage in her eyes told Canada all he needed to know.

He made a mistake, and one he could never fix.

He took America's love and threw it right back at her. Now, that mistake will lead to America eventually feeling nothing more than apathy towards her brother in the near future.


	74. Through My Eyes (Part 5)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya from Wattpad*

_That_ day came and went, and Canada had never seen so much hatred in his sister's eyes.

She looked horrible with her sickly pale skin, the blood that stained the upper area of her dress, and her overall shaking form. When she looked at Canada, she would back away and take hold of her de-aged sons Washington D.C. and Maine, who somehow appeared with America, the former who was sobbing in his mother's arms and the latter who was eerily unresponsive.

And good god...

The capital has so many disgusting burns on his form, all newly formed and some places still burning hot. Most of his hair was gone, and some of the burns were spreading onto America, but she didn't seem to care as she worked to stay as far away from Canada as she could.

"How could you...?" America asked. "Why?! Are you happy now? Are you happy that you've hurt my children?! Well, are you?!"

Canada flinched, the guilt in his heart expanding by the minute. "A-America..."

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked. "Just...stay away from us. Stay off our lands! Neither you nor that demon is allowed to return! If you ever return, I'll kill you myself!!"

Washington D.C. whimpered again, and, without taking her eyes off Canada, America brought the eldest of her two present sons closer, backing away, before she flat out sprinted to her bedroom in her colonial home.

Canada didn't bother following her, knowing whether or not he did, nothing could change what he had done. If only he had known they would be harming innocent children, not just America; If only his rage didn't blind him to the facts, especially that America couldn't control her people, including their thoughts; If only England wasn't so desperate to get her back; and if only they realized they would destroy whatever relationship they had with America from that one act alone.

How could they be so stupid? Now, the fact that America considered Mexico to be her only "living" brother hurt more than it was supposed to.

~~~

The little Washington D.C. continued to whimper in pain, even as America tried to bandage his burns. Meanwhile, little Maine sat on the bed, completely unresponsive and motionless, with his eyes vacant and staring into an undisclosed distance. She bandaged and cleaned the burns as best she could before she picked up little Daniel and walked over to Bernard, also taking him into her arms.

Finally, Maine seemed to come back to reality, but only enough so he can try wrap his tiny arms around his mother's waist. America, for the first time in hours, felt tears come to her eyes, because she was scared. Scared for her president and Miss Dolly, scared for the people who were in Washington D.C. when the British, England, and Canada attacked, and, most of all, scared for her children.

She quietly sobbed into their heads. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to them, meaning those three words with all her soul. "I'm so sorry..."

What kind of mother was she? How could she just allow her children to be hurt and traumatized? What kind of mother does that?

She may never know.

~~~

France knew this day was coming, especially when Canada arrived at the meeting; pale, emotionless, and otherwise broken. He didn't need to be told to know what had happened.

However, France didn't bother to comfort his former charge, knowing the boy had asked for this. In fact, they all have.

After learning of what England and Canada had done to America, France did try to go visit her (when he still thought the younger nation was a man), but so many people gazed at him with so much distrust and hostility, sometimes even throwing rocks at him, that he was forced to leave. Now, France understood that he should've done more, because now America has no reason to trust or care for him.

He also failed.

Failed as a father-figure.

Failed as a man.

And, worst of all, he failed as a human.

And he'll never make up for it. There was no way to, because he threw away all his chances like they were nothing more than fucking trash.

It was not only France though, because most of the nations did the same, and now, America is forced to work with the people who previously despised her very existence, and for no good reason. She didn't care for them, and they deserved it.

Especially France himself.

Sadly, America will never know how much the nations who did ridicule her cared for her, even more than a friend. Even if she did, she would throw their feelings back at them, just as they did her.

"What's with the look frog?" England spat, glaring at his neighbor, but flinched when France glared at him, the malice under it unlike the arguments they usually have.

"What do you zhink Angleterre? Look at Matthieu."

England did, and even still, was confused.

France was so tempted to punch himself right now. "He has harmed his own sister, and did not use his head before doing so. Same with you."

Finally, England understood, and all color drained from his face.

"This is only zhe beginning Angleterre," France continued. "The beginning of zhe future we've been asking for. A future where Amerique wants nothing to do with us, where we destroyed whatever relationship we had with her, and we don't appreciate what we've had until it's gone."

"T-That's..."

"It's too late now Angleterre, and you know it. We will never become close to her again, and we have no one to blame but ourselves."


	75. Through My Eyes (Part 6)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya from Wattpad*

The first time America came to a meeting, it was just days after she went through her War of 1812 faze, and even still, she avoided Canada and England like they were the plague.

Hell, she refused to even spare one glance at them.

She was wearing a dark blue and simple dress, a dress you would see in the 1800's, but without the corset and other death traps women were expected to wear during that time period. However, her hair was kept up in a brown bonnet, and nothing else.

When she arrived at the meeting, America tensed. Literally tensed. From here, she truly looked like she'd rather be anywhere but here, especially with England and Canada nearby.

However, soon she forced herself to relax, but her guard was still up. "Am I in the right room?" she asked.

"J-Ja, jou are," Germany confirmed, not sure of what to make of this form of America. He took note that she was sickly pale, and when she took her seat, she stayed as far away from England and Canada as she could, ignoring their looks of hurt.

Of course, Germany didn't know who to feel pity for.

Even still, if he was America and a father, he would be just as reluctant to be in the same room as the people who performed the unforgivable deed of harming his children.

"Ve~ It's nice to meet you America!" Italy chirped, rushing over to her, only to flinch away when America backed away, her hand on her hidden revolver. Immediately, Italy took out his white flag and surrendered to her, shaking uncontrollably.

America kept her gun trained on Italy. "How do you know my name?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

"V-Ve...England and Canada have..." Italy whimpered, and for the first time, America looked at said nations, except her glare was filled with so much malice that automatically the two nations wished she continued ignoring them.

"Damn you..." she growled. "First, you had to hurt my family, and now you let the other nations of all people know of this? You goddamn fools!"

Once more, England and Canada winced, trying to make themselves as small as possible.

"Amerique, it's not zheir fault--"

"Stay out of this France! This has nothing to do with you!" America shouted, aiming her revolver at the nation, and quickly he held up his hands, not wanting to create a problem that could end poorly.

"I don't care what reason you have of telling these people of what you have done, and I bet you've boasted about what you've done with a smile on your face, isn't that right?" America asked, a bitter laugh escaping her.

"That's not--"

A boom erupted in the meeting room, and immediately the nations who were near the source took cover, while the others jumped and froze in pure fear.

America had shot at the area next to England's head, missing him by inches. England stood, frozen in place as he stared at America with horrific shock.

"Shut. Up," America growled. "I don't want to hear your petty excuses. After all, that's all you've given me throughout my life, and I don't expect anything different from you, so don't bother trying to protect yourself. The only reason I'm here and dealing with you is because I have a job to do, so let's pretend we never had this conversation and get to work. But let this serve as a warning for you. I have no problem in wiping your wasteful existence off the face of the earth if I must, and it will just make for one less person to have to worry about."

England, pale as ash, looked like he wanted to respond to that, but Canada pulled him down. The latter had his head bowed the entire time, his entire posture screaming defeat. Satisfied that she didn't get another response, America sat back down, and nodded to Germany, her professional and calm outlook coming back.

Germany didn't know whether to feel threatened or confused.

But at least everyone was quiet now.

~~~

It wasn't long before things took a turn for the worse. Canada knew something was horrifically wrong when Virginia, Maine, and even Texas rushed into his home, their eyes filled with terror, and the fact that they refused to leave his house telling him that something happened to America.

However, when he tried to go to her house, the three states tried to hold him back. "Don't!" Texas demanded. "Don't you dare go there!"

"What's happened?!" Canada shouted back.

"I'm afraid you don't wanna know," Texas answered. Upon his uncle's glare though, he relented. "It's the Civil War era now."

"Civil--" Then Canada understood. The day America was split in two and the years to come where she had to experience civil war so early.

He remembered so clearly how the other nations poked fun at America with this fact--in order to hide their inner worry at what the outcome would be--which would soon lead to more personal problems between them and America. Now, said nations regretted ever having done such a thing to the younger nation, because whenever they looked into her eyes, they would automatically look away.

Her eyes were too old, especially for someone of her age. She truly had lost her innocence too early, and the nations couldn't blame anyone but themselves.

Then Mississippi's explanation of the Civil War returned, and Canada knew he looked as pale as a ghost. "W-Was America truly...ripped in half?"

The three states were very reluctant to answer, but, slowly, they nodded.

"Did she truly become two different people afterwards?" More nods.

"And you were forced to leave because those...other halves of America tried to kill you?"

More nods.

"Dear God." Then Canada grabbed his rifle, Kumajiro, and turned towards his nephews and niece. "Stay here, and for the sake of Heaven do not follow me. If what you're saying is true, then don't come after me, do you understand?"

He didn't wait to see if the states had obeyed him, for immediately after he was in his car and driving like Hell was on his tail to America's home.

~~~

The first thing he heard were screams. Pained, unstoppable, and inhumane screams. After hearing it, Canada had rushed into the house with his gun in hand and Kumajiro behind him, only to find the inside in absolute chaos.

Many states were barricading the door that lead to the room where America was screaming from. Others, like Pennsylvania, was trying to keep the younger among them from trying to investigate what was wrong with their mother, and so many arguments were at play because of this.

"What the hell is wrong with Mom?!" Ethan, or Oklahoma, demanded his older sister, his eyes unleashing tears of frustration and worry, which Pennsylvania matched.

"I can't tell jou!" she yelled. "It's better if jou don't know!"

"Juliette, that's our mother we're talking about here. She's in obvious pain, caused from God knows what, while we're out here doing nothing helpful!" This time it was Wyoming who said that, his calmer personality replaced with a cold and hostile man. His eyes were steely, as if ready to pounce, but Pennsylvania held her ground, glaring up at him with stern eyes.

"Even if I do allow jou to see Muti, jou vill only regret it. Zhe only zhing I can tell jou is zhat ve have tried to help her but our efforts vere in vain."

"In vain?" Wyoming repeated.

"Ja, ve have tried all ve could, but it vasn't enough." Pennsylvania winced when another scream came from the barricaded room. "So ve had to vatch in horror as Muti vas ripped in two."

As if to prove a point, the sound of ripping flesh was heard, and Pennsylvania turned green, while the nearby and older states backed away, terrified.

"Fucking Hell!" Tennessee cursed.

"Guys we must leave!" Indiana cried, moving towards the door even while keeping his eyes on the door.

"What's wrong with Makuahine?" Hawaii whimpered, clinging to Maryland as the older girl carried her from the house.

"Trust me love, you don't want to know."

"But..."

"I know you're scared dear, but it's better if you don't know."

After that, all the states were out of the home, leaving behind Canada. Speaking of whom, he cautiously approached the room, which was now deathly silent. Slowly he tried to quietly get rid of the barricade, though he knew he didn't want to see what was on the other side of that door.

Then, all of a sudden, the door banged.

Followed by screams, ones that were full of rage and hatred.

There was also a problem: there seemed to be more than one person behind that door.

Canada jumped back from surprise, his gun fling from his hand, and Kumajiro started to growl at the door, which was on the verge of collapsing with the amount of force. Eventually, he resorted to hiding in the kitchen, working extra to keep his bear to do the same.

He then watched from there as the door burst open, resulting in the barricade to collapse onto itself.

Who came out made Canada almost to inhale sharply.

There were two different women, both of whom were nude and covered in blood. America was nowhere to be seen in the room, but there was a huge puddle of blood that dripped from the bed. Back to the two women, they were literally trying to kill each other, ripping at each other's skin and landing blows that would leave broken bones and nasty bruises.

"Fucking southern whore!" screamed the first woman. She had close-cropped dark brown eyes, the matching eyes, tan skin, and the figure of a laborer.

"Northern cunt!" cursed the other. She had long blonde hair, green eyes, pale skin, and the figure of a woman who has never seen labor.

The two of them continued to punch and lunge at each other, sometimes grabbing shards of the barricade against each other, or anything they can get their hands on. Canada knew it was only a matter of time before they found him, and he had to leave before that happen.

However, karma seemed to love him today, because the women did find him, and when they did, the monstrous rage in their eyes didn't vanquish.

Was this truly his sister?

The woman near him (likely the Confederate) yelled out and lunged at him. She grabbed a knife and tried to stab Canada with it, but Kumajiro body slammed into her. With a yell, she fell back, giving both Canada and the bear enough time to run for it. Of course, after recovering, the Union and Confederate chased after them, screaming like banshees. They also screamed, "I'm gonna kill you!"

Canada ran faster than he ever had in his whole life. Those...those...things were not his sister.

Eventually he found his car, and once he and Kumajiro were inside, Canada drove out of there like Hell was on his tail. For once, he didn't care if he got a speeding ticket for going past the speed limit.

Just, anything to get away from those two.


	76. Through My Eyes (Part 7)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

Now, a day had passed since Canada had ran away from America's colonial home, and since then refused to return there. The one who did go was Russia, merely because he was curious.

Now, the taller nation admitted that he wasn't the most stable of nations (but then again who isn't?), but if there was one thing he wasn't, he wasn't evil. Well, not evil, but he wasn't exactly a good guy either.

Like America.

Ever since learning of her true personality, Russia was fascinated. He never thought the nation he too thought was an idiot was that good of an actress. She even managed to fool him, and that was saying a lot. Though, ever since then, he couldn't describe the feeling he had for the female nation, especially after learning she was the mother of his child.

Was it affection? Jealousy? Russia couldn't be sure.

By the time he arrived to America's home, it was silent. It seemed as if the world stopped turning here, because even the insects didn't make a sound. Although a little uneasy, Russia walked to the front door, knocking a few times. No one answered, and Russia let himself in.

The house was a total mess. All the furniture was ripped to shreds and there was not a room were there was broken glass, destroyed furniture, and even blood.

It was alarming, the amount of damage two women could create in a day.

Was this what the American Civil War was like?

Russia continued on, appearing unaffected on the outside, until he arrived at America's bedroom. And low and behold, America was lying on bed, the only untouched object in the entire house, completely naked, and in a comatose state. Russia eyed her for a moment, noticing how scarred her body was.

So much scars, probably more so than Russia's own body.

The scars came in various shapes in sizes, but the one that caught Russia's eye was the scar that ran cleanly down her chest to her lower regions. It was even raw.

The scar of the Civil War.

Snapping himself out of his stupor, Russia worked to wrap up America's body, just before carrying her out of the house. She was pretty light, so it was easy to get her out of the messy home and into his car. Not once did she make a sound or twitched, but Russia didn't really mind.

"You really enjoy causing me trouble, don't you comrade?"

The day after, America spent the next couple of days in bed, as she was unable to sit up on her own. And ever since then, she had been staying in Russia's house, but she didn't talk to the man much unless she had to.

Russia didn't really mind.

When Latvia brought food and water for America, Russia came in after the shorter nation left. America was now staring out the window, watching as the snow fell all around. The only indication that she heard him enter was her occasional glance back at him.

"Why don't you tell me Amerika?" Russia asked, pouring himself a glass of vodka.

Finally, America looked at him. She remained silent.

"Tell me what you really think of me."

Stupid question he knew, and even he didn't know where that came from, but it was too late now. Once again, America said nothing, but eventually that silence was broken.

"I don't hate you," she began, "but I don't trust you."

"Oh?"

"You have done nothing to me, but I'm afraid that will not last. You are not a nation for nothing, and in fact, neither am I. Conflicts between nations is inevitable."

"What does that have do you with you not hating but not trusting me?"

"You should already know the answer to that Ivan Braginski. After all, you're older than even I am," America remarked, returning her attention to the window.

Russia _did_ know the answer. He just wanted to hear it from someone else's mouth.

When you're a nation that's seen many, many wars, you tend to learn to be weary of those around you, no matter how trustworthy they were. Hell, he was like that with the nations that were not worthy of military attention, like the Baltics.

America clearly had no one to really trust (if you don't count Japan, the Baltics themselves, the Nordics, and even her own brother Mexico), and Russia knew the two of them were more alike than the other thought. Whether America saw it Russia didn't know, but it probably didn't matter. Either way, the facts were still there.

This is a cold reminder to them all.

"So that's a no?" Russia asked, feeling playful suddenly.

America just stared at him, unamused. "Yes and no."

She then left it at that.


	77. Through My Eyes (Part 8)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

It wasn't long until the first World War hit.

America was now covered in dirt and a little blood, dressed in military clothes, and always carried a gun with her. If there was one thing none of the nations forgot during the wars, it was how dangerous America was when in battle. Not only could she always make a perfect shot with any kind of gun, but she knew all kinds of martial arts, and could use anything she can get her hands on as a weapon, like the dirt.

She had used it on Germany before, pretending to be more wounded than she appeared, then, once the buffer nation was close enough, she threw dust into his eyes, blinding him temporarily. She then shot him in the legs and interrogated him on crucial information, using ancient techniques.

Germany was forever scarred by that, and, deep down, he feared and respected America.

And right now, he wished someone would shot him in the head.

America was on top of him, her bayonette in his shoulder, and she stared down at him with cold, ruthless eyes. As soon as America came in, in her World War I faze, chaos erupted. America took down many nations who tried to subdue her with ease, especially China, and walked right over to Germany, soon taking him to the ground.

Germany now grunted in pain, hoping America wouldn't force him to live through her torture again.

"Wie erbärmlich (How pathetic)," America spat. "Der große Deutschland hat sich schwach erwiesen. Ich erwartete, besser von Ihnen, Ludwig Beilschmidt (The great Germany has proven himself weak. I expected better from you, Ludwig Beilschmidt)."

That's another thing that caught Germany off guard around that time. America spoke his language fluently, so fluently that no one suspected her of being of the American army, much less from America. Of course, back in the time when Germany had been fooled by America out of wars, America pretended to struggle with the German language, and now he wished he looked deeper.

America then sighed and extracted her gun. "Ich werde dich nicht töten, aber deinen Segen Deutsch zählen. Beim nächsten Mal werde ich nicht zögern, dass Körper von Ihnen auseinander zu reißen (I won't kill you, but count your blessings German. Next time, I will not hesitate to rip that body of yours apart)," America threatened before she turned to leave.

Now, Germany was going to be spending the rest of his day counting his blessings, all while the nations around him groaned in pain.

~~~

"Miss America, why did you join the war to begin with?" Lithuania asked. He was outside with the military-clad nation in the woods, woods that America seemed to know by heart, and said nation was leaning against a tree with her eyes closed. Now that Lithuania had a good look at her, America looked like she only got a couple hours of sleep.

"To protect my country," was her response.

Lithuania should've been surprised, but he wasn't. "Do you not care for the nations?"

"Only a select few," America admitted, opening her eyes. "Most of them brought this war upon themselves, so I had no reason to join in on their pathetic game of hide and seek, but when my country was threatened, I wished to defend it. Of course, those fuck-ups are going to find more than one reason to point out my own flaws, instead of acknowledging their own. I have never been a more unlucky woman."

Lithuania stared at her sadly. "Is that what you really think?"

"Yes." She said it without hesitation, and her face remained indifferent.

"So you won't care if they fall."

"No. In fact, they can go burn in Hell itself and I wouldn't give a fuck."

Now, the smaller nation was happy he actually bothered seeing America in a new light. He wouldn't be able to handle it if she was indifferent towards him too.

"Did you also want to protect your children?" Lithuania then asked, and the look America gave him told him everything.

"I can't protect them from everything, and there will come a time when I can no longer be there for them, but I'm going to try," America answered, now looking solemn.

"What are you trying to say?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Lithuania did, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the translation is wrong, please let me know.


	78. Through My Eyes (Part 9)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

Then, just two days later, the Roaring 20's came.

Louisiana had taken her siblings and mother to her private hotel, where she was hosting a dance that would be seen from those times. All 50 states and Washington D.C. were dressed in the common 1920's attires, and danced like there was no tomorrow.

America was among them.

She wore a dress of simple yet beautiful cotton fabric, white heels, and a beaded matching headpiece. Her lips also adjourned red lipstick as she danced among her children.

Of course, despite not being invited, the nations were there anyway.

They watched as America danced with all her children, and surprisingly Texas was a good dancer and managed to match his expert siblings in every way. Nearby, Virginia, New Hampshire, Hawaii, and even Alaska were playing music from their respective instruments and having the time of their lives.

From here, all nations could see how happy America was, more happy than when she was at the meetings. Her life was so much easier when she didn't have to deal with the world's problems, problems the world brought upon themselves. America was happier when she didn't have to deal with the ungrateful nations, especially ones who have given her nothing in return.

Here, among her children, the people who love her, she could be free to be herself and not worry about being judged for it.

Oh, and Louisiana invited a couple other people, and America danced with a couple men, a few of whom were a little too eager to dance with her and a few of her daughters. The same could be said for a couple women, and one woman even fainted when she saw the walking sexy hulk of a man called Texas.

Many nations didn't know why they felt angry at this.

Especially when Israel danced with America, clearly having the time of his life. America smiled up at him with a delighted smile, before she started to dance like the world was coming to an end, Israel following her, awkward at first, but soon getting the hang of it.

It was like this night would last forever.

Sadly, this would not.

~~~

It wasn't long after America's Great Depression hit, and it didn't seem to just affect America, but also her children.

Although they didn't follow their mother in her faze spell, they still felt the affects as if they were in the event all over again.

Most of them fell into comas, were bedridden, or just looked like hell. For example, Virginia seemed to have lost any life in her body, as she was sickly pale, her hair and eyes seemed to have dulled, and not to mention she couldn't walk by herself. The others sometimes couldn't eat the food they were given without the threat of them throwing them up. Hell, the only thing they could eat was soft foods.

When America came to meetings, she would hold one of her ill children in her arms and just hold them. The child would cling to her in pain, pain America couldn't soothe, all day.

In fact, there was another thing many of you may not know of what America did during the Great Depression.

She asked the spirits of healing to put her children to a coma so they wouldn't feel the pain of the depression, and while some naturally fell into comas, the spirits of healing would place the others into their comas.

America, on the other hand, truly had seen better days. Like many of her children, her tan skin had changed to a deathly pale, her face had sunken into itself, her hair and eyes lost its shine, and she looked tired as Hell. For all the nations knew, she could be all skin and bones under all her clothing.

"Mon ami, have somezhing to eat," France tried to persuade America, presenting a simple egg omelet. It was pretty small too, but the country of love didn't want to force the superpower to consume it, as whenever someone tried to make her fully consume something, she would throw it back up.

America just stared up at him, unmoving.

"Please?" France placed the small omelet before her, before moving away himself.

Eventually, America shakily picked up the fork he left for her and cut off a too small piece of it, before placing it in her mouth. She chewed it slowly before swallowing, but cringed, becoming a little green in the face, but she clearly forced the bile back down and forced herself to take another small bite, resulting in the same thing.

Those who were exceptionally close to America bit their lips in worry. No one thought the Great Depression was this serious, but then again no one except Mexico and Lithuania went to check on her to see the full extent of the Depression, and for that they felt guilty, especially those who America is cruel to.

The Allies were one of them.

America was never afraid of showing them that she didn't care for their well-being after revealing herself, but to go this far was another level of insanity. Now that they thought about it, whenever someone asked her about her health, she would either change the subject or brush that person off coldly.

They didn't think too much of it, and now they wish they had.

It truly was amazing how far America went to keep herself hidden from them, and heartbreaking.

The next day, America was again dressed in military gear, glaring at Germany and even Italy whenever they were near. However, whenever Japan came into her sight, her eyes would become sorrowful, one that Japan had to immediately look away from. After all, he was the reason why she joined the war to begin with.

She still looked worse for wear physically, though some fat returned to her face, but not too much. She was still pale, skinny, and exhausted, but she refused to collapse, not when she was at war.

America also showed her clear distrust of her own allies, speaking to them professionally, but refusing to let them into her country or near her children. In fact, when Russia asked if he could go see Alaska, she hit him in the nose with the butt of her gun, glaring down at him as he whimpered in pain.

"Good god your nose is big enough to be a target, and no," America replied before walking away and leaving behind a group of stunned nations.

Of course, Belarus looked murderous, but when America threatened her with a fall from the building, the girl was subdued.

Then, when France attempted to go check on his children, America held a gun to his face, unafraid of pulling the trigger to make her point. She even did the same with England and Russia.

"Over my dead body," she spat at them.

Of course, she allowed Japan, Sweden, Netherlands, and even Mexico visit.

She truly cared only for protecting her country and her children. Lithuania remembered what she said when she was in her World War I faze.

_"Most of them brought this war upon themselves, so I had no reason to join in on their pathetic game of hide and seek, but when my country was threatened, I wished to defend it. Of course, those fuck-ups are going to find more than one reason to point out my flaws, instead of acknowledging their own. I have never been a more unlucky woman."_

So young, and yet too old.

Many nations watched as Mexico, Israel, Japan, and even Sweden and Finland tried to help her get comfortable, their eyes filled with worry. Mexico would sometimes hold the distressed child America brought, mostly the youngest states, and gently pat their back and rock them to sleep, while the others tried to feed America some soft food and drinks. Sometimes he even went to check on his children and the other states.

This was another thing even the states forgot sometimes. Although knowing how dangerous he was, Mexico still loved his sister and hated hurting her. Hell, he even went to check on her on more than one occasion whenever she was hurt, especially during the War of 1812. America did the same, especially after the Mexican War, though she still hid her gender around that time.

That showed everyone how loving of a brother Mexico was, and how much of a failure Canada was.

Most didn't know whether to feel pity, be disgusted, or understand the latter.

Lithuania knew one thing however: Mexico would really make a wonderful husband and father to America and her children, even if they were siblings.

Even while thinking that, why did it leave a blow on Lithuania's heart?


	79. Through My Eyes (Part 10)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*
> 
> *WARNING: Mentions of rape*

At the next meeting, the nations, including Russia, knew things were not going to end well.

That was because America was in her Cold War faze, and no one had ever seen her so on edge and hostile, more so towards Russia.

Even though no actual war was happening, America was still dressed in military garb, and everyone knew better than to assume she didn't have concealed weapons on her person. Her eyes were once more sharp with an icy rage that could consume a lesser person, and she had her hand on a pistol the entire time.

Hell, she was even hostile towards Belarus, Ukraine, and a little with the Baltics. This deeply hurt the latter, as they had been a part of the Soviet Union around that time (against their will to be more precise), and never thought that America would be reluctant to speak to them like they were friends. However, her eyes also held sadness whenever she looked at them.

One time that day, the nations had been surprised to find Russia and America pointing guns at each other, both of them unafraid of pulling the trigger.

"Stupid, stupid Amerika," Russia taunted in a sing-song voice, "Do you honestly think you can beat me?"

America showed no emotion. She just kept her gun trained on Russia's face, silent. Meanwhile, the nations thought if Russia was truly asking to die.

"So you understand da? You understand that no matter what you do, you'll only be hurting yourself."

"And unfortunately for you, you're hurting yourself as well," America commented.

Confused, Russia was about to ask her what she meant until America had him pinned to the ground, tied up, and naked saving for his underpants. Stunned, Russia didn't speak as America dragged him off into an undisclosed room and locked the door behind her, leaving behind a group of horrified and confused nations.

Inside the room, America bound Russia to a chair that happened to be nearby and whipped him across the face with her gun. Russia spat up blood and was grabbed roughly by the hair, forcing him to look back at America, who continued to stare at him with cold indifference.

Then, she began to speak in Russian. "Из-за вас, мои люди стали бояться своих друзей, членов семьи и соседей. Теперь, я собираюсь показать вам боль, когда вы изнасиловали их (Because of you, my people have become afraid of their friends, family, and neighbors. Now, I'm going to show you the pain of when you raped them)."

She removed any form of clothing at this point, and Russia could only beg for his life as he screamed in pain when America laid bruises, cuts, and slashes upon his exposed body, unrepentant and indifferent to his cries.

~~~

Afterwards, America held a bound Belarus at gunpoint, easily dodging the girl's sloppy attacks.

"How dare you!" the girl screamed. "How dare you!"

Eventually, America whipped her gun across Belarus' face, silencing her. "Shut your trap girl," she commanded coldly. "In case you have forgotten already, your oh so dear big brother got what was coming to him, and even you know it, don't you?"

Belarus just growled in response.

"Thought so. Now, if I were you I'd watch myself, and I have no problem in shooting that brain of yours out of your thick skull if you choose to be reckless. Besides, you're already on thin ice as it is, and I know where your strengths and your weaknesses lie girl. Take this as a warning: My government and I are waiting for your next mistake, and I know it won't be much longer."

"Oh? You mean when we blow up that weak brother of Germany's?" Belarus taunted, ignoring the flinch in said nations.

America didn't falter. "What about him?"

Belarus didn't respond. She _couldn't_ respond. She stared at America with shock, not expecting that answer. No one expected it in fact, and they stared at America like she grew another head and a tail. Germany and Prussia just stared, hurt clouding their features.

"W-What?" Belarus whispered.

"Did I stutter little girl? I asked what about him?" If America noticed the looks she was getting, she ignored them in favor of her captive.

"Did you not say you wanted to rescue him and get him back to his brother?!"

America snorted. "Oh yes, I remember saying that, but it was all to fool you. I only wish to take you down because you are a threat to me and my people. Those two brought this upon themselves, and this is payback for killing millions of innocent people and forcing many men, including my own, to their early deaths. That is something I cannot forgive, and even I hate the fact that I have to rescue that poor excuse of a nation."

Prussia choked, his eyes clearly cloudy with tears. He always forgot to thank America for saving him and taking him back to Germany, but now he didn't know what to think. What happened to the nation he helped train to win her independence? Where did she go? Or, more likely, what have they all done to her?

Were they truly that horrible to her that she would say such a thing?

Belarus slumped. "So...that really is what you think of us all."

America raised an eyebrow, but her expression didn't change. "Took you this long to figure it out," she commented. "I never thought you would be so easy to fool, and I am quite happy about that, for you saved me a lot of work. However, don't misunderstand me. I will destroy you and your family if you continue to pose as a threat, and I will even drag the whole world to Hell before I let you inflict even the slightest harm on my country."

With that, America left, leaving a shaken Belarus and former members of the Soviet Union. China then approached America, preventing her from leaving.

"Was that necessary aru?"

The look America gave him not only gave him the answer, but made him back away. Satisfied, America left without another word, and amidst all the silent nations, Ukraine shook her head in disappointment.

"You foolish boy," she quietly uttered, before going to check on the likely traumatized Russia in the other room, a silent Belarus following behind her.


	80. Through My Eyes (Part 11)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

Thankfully, America was out of her Cold War faze by the next meeting, but unfortunately, she was still in bad spirits.

Reason being was because it was apparently sometime after the day the Civil Rights activist, Martin Luther King. Jr, was assassinated. America had clearly had her share of mourning, but she still was in a poor mood. She was dressed in a black gown, wore a black hat that came with a matching veil, black heels, long black gloves, and carried a bouquet of roses. She also appeared to be deprived of sleep, as there were dark shadows under her eyes and her skin was pale.

Next to her, Georgia quietly leaned against her shoulder, also dressed in black. Mother and son were emotionless and too quiet, which was creating a tension within the room that, if possible, would drown the nations.

No one was informed of this, but King was great friends with America and Georgia after meeting them. America agreed with the man's views, but she warned King of the incoming problems his cause would bring.

Even still, King went along with his views, telling her, "That is a risk I'm willing to take Miss."

Coretta was so lucky to have a man like him as her husband, and his children were just as lucky to have him as their father.

Eventually, the pressure in the room was too much for most of the nations, and they had to leave. However, some stayed, and watched as the mother and son quietly spoke to each other.

"He's in a better place Mama," Georgia whispered to her, clearly struggling not to cry.

"I hope so my son," America whispered back. "He deserves a place in Heaven, alongside God. He was too good for this world. Why is always the good people who die early, like Lincoln?"

Georgia didn't answer.

~~~

Later, America was found placing the bouquet on King's memorial, her eyes now unleashing quiet tears. She then baptized herself, before bowing her head in prayer. She stayed like that for a long while, before she stood and began to perform a dance, one so sorrowful that those who saw her couldn't help but cry.

Many nations had followed her and when they saw her face, pain struck their hearts. Her eyes held so much sorrow and grief, clearly a woman who lost someone who meant so much to her. She danced gracefully, but she didn't bother hiding that sorrow from her body language, and if she heard the nations quietly sobbing, she ignored them. She then started to sing in a Native American language, and of course only Canada could understand what she was saying.

_Can you ever forgive me_

_Oh dear one to my heart?_

_Can you ever forgive my failure to help you?_

_To protect you from early doom?_

_Are you happy now with the goddess?_

_I hope you are_

_for you deserve that happiness._

_And yet,_

_you leave behind a world that loves you,_

_who misses you._

_You even left me behind,_

_in a world that hates her very existence._

_Is it alright if I can be selfish for once?_

_Just this once,_

_can I ask you to stay with me?_

_Or am I too much of a curse to stay for?_

_Am I the cause for your death?_

_Then I guess I deserve this._

_Then, can you ever forgive me?_

_My loving friend?_

_My faithful citizen?_

_My beautiful soul?_

_Can you forgive your foolish country?_

_Do you still care for me?_

_Please say you do,_

_and say you're happy with Mother Gaia._

_That is all I ask of you,_

_my dearest friend._

_Rest in peace,_

_now and forever more._

After finishing, America went to her knees and silently bowed her head again, where she would say until one of the states took her away.

Even after the nations went home that day, America's haunting dance and song was still playing in their head, even when they went to sleep.


	81. Through My Eyes (Part 12)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

The next morning, there was loud music coming from America's house, forcing a set of confused nations to walk in and see a very exotic sight.

America was dancing like the world was ending, and to what sounded like rock music. She was also wearing a punk-like outfit, which consisted of a short black and purple slip-off shirt, a black skirt, long green and blue socks, spiked black boots, a spiked choker, black spiderweb earrings, and even black eyeshadow.

Upon seeing this, New York, who happened to be with them, snorted in laughter, before trying to keep himself together.

"What?" England asked upon seeing the slight tremble of the boy.

"I-I'm fine!" New York almost hollered, now struggling to keep himself from grinning. "I-It's just t-t-that Mama always--always got like this w-w-wh-when the 70's were c-concerned."

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore, and burst into hysterical laughter. Now, since America had the music up to a maximum, she didn't hear it and continued to dance like the last second was her last.

The way she was dancing also made a few certain nations unable to look away for fear that they would melt. America, contrary to what many people thought, was a beautiful and graceful dancer, as she clearly knew what she was doing and didn't have to try too hard to be so. Of course, no one thought she would be able to accomplish this, but as she had them all fooled from the very start, they never knew about anything.

However, as soon as the music ended, America turned to them, and then jumped in the air. Once she recovered, she glared at them, except for New York.

"Is there a reason you're here?" she asked coldly.

"U-Um..."

America rolled her eyes. "If you are not going to answer me, then you might as well leave." She then closed the living room door in their faces, and New York knew England wanted to scold his mother, but couldn't find the words.

"Well, you heard the woman, out with you." New York none so gently pushed the nations out of the house, also slamming the door behind them.

England was by now as red as a tomato. "T-Those two...!"

"Enough Angleterre. Let's go now," France ordered, grabbing the back of the other nation's shirt collar before dragging him to the car, all while ignoring said man's complaining. Shortly after, the others followed.


	82. Through My Eyes (Part 13)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

When America came to the meeting the next day, she was dressed in a 1980's dress, carrying a folder. She walked elegantly and proudly, uncaring what people thought of her. Her white heels hitting the floor were the only sound heard in the silent room, and America raised an eyebrow as she sat down.

"Problem, gentlemen?" she asked.

No one spoke. Instead they turned away, embarrassed.

"I will ask again. Is there a problem, gentlemen?" America's voice held a tinge of warning, and her gloved hand was placed on the handle of a pistol.

"N-Nothing Amerika, ve're just stunned," Germany popped up.

"Stunned?"

"Ve've never...seen jou in a dress before." Germany knew he sounded stupid, but it was a little true, as the modern America wore skirts and such, but never a full-on dress whenever they met with her.

"I see." America relaxed and sat down. "Carry on then."

Although a little hesitant, the nations got right on with the meeting, planning on having a little chat with one of the states when they were done.

~~~

"It was very common for us to carry pistols with us during the 80's," New York answered France once he was asked about why America was carrying a loaded pistol. "Crime rate was at an all time high, mostly common with teenagers who never went to school. They were literally the dumbest shit to ever walk the earth, as they couldn't even speak correctly and were attacking any house that caught their interest."

"We understood immediately when Madre ordered us to carry guns, as some of us have very populated cities," added California. "One time a gang came to Madre's house and she immediately shot one of them. Of course, they died, but it was enough to scare the gang into not coming back."

The nations sweat-dropped. Of course that would happen.

"So why are you asking us? Did Mother threaten you with a gun?" New York asked, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

Germany glowered. "N-Nein."

New York stared at Germany for a moment, before he sighed. "Good God, Mother wasn't lying when she said you're a horrible liar."

Prussia was struggling to not burst out laughing, while Germany glared at the state. "I am not!"

"Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that big man." With that, New York and California left to do their own thing, leaving a blubbering Germany, a hysterical Prussia, and the other nations behind.


	83. Through My Eyes (Part 14)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

America was looking over what appeared to photos, a wondrous look on her face. Of course, she was sitting in the meeting room, and Germany had just announced lunch break. America brought her own lunch, which consisted of a peanut butter sandwich, a bottle of water, and an apple, which was taking bites of as she continued to look over the photos.

When some nations glanced over her shoulder, they realized that they were pictures of various kinds of galaxies, taken with the Hubble Space Telescope. America glanced over her shoulder, her eyebrow raised as she stared at them.

She blinked. They blinked. Then she sighed.

"What?" she asked. "Do I have something on my face boys?"

No one spoke. Then Italy mumbled something.

"Speak up!" Italy jumped at the harsh command, but obeyed nevertheless.

"N-No, everything's fine!" he stammered, hoping America wouldn't snap at him again.

America stared at him for a moment or two, as if she was debating on believing him, but then she decided to and just turned back to the pictures, ignoring them.

Everyone now knew that America was getting closer and closer to becoming her normal self again, and they all could tell that she wasn't going to be pleased when she was back to normal. They pictured a modern America dragging England out the door by his ear, an angered look on her face as she comprehended what he had done to her. Everyone also guessed that she probably wasn't going to be pleased to hear that everyone had seen her historical selves.

Now they could only hope that America wouldn't try to gut them alive.

Either way, they watched America as she wrote something down on a piece of paper, still studying the pictures. A few nations decided to have a peak of those notes. Apparently she was drawing pictures of different types of galaxies, and god damn were those amazing pictures. Of course, everyone knew that America was an intelligent woman after discovering her true self, but now, it hurt all over again, because they didn't know America could draw.

She could do everything, and they didn't know it!

But while America seemed to be doing this, there was an air of unease and distrust around her, and it took everyone a moment to realize that she had a pistol on her person.

Oh no.

The 90's meant that there was a war going on in the Islamic nations, most of whom America clearly didn't hesitate to hide her distrust from. If one of them even looked at her funny, she would place a hand on her pistol, ready to draw it if needed.

This caused said nation to flinch and shake in fear. It was clear that even they forgot how dangerous and malicious America was. Heck, during the manhunt for Osama Bin Laden, the soldiers worked tirelessly and relentlessly to find and kill him. Now, the nations could only worry as that time arrived, because they don't know how the real America reacted on that day.

However, they didn't need to be told to know that she was pissed.

Hell, they would be too if that happened to their citizens!

But hopefully things won't get too out of hand. Oh who were they kidding? Things always went out of hand when America and her family is concerned!


	84. Through My Eyes (Part 15)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad* 
> 
> *WARNING: Suggestive themes, blood, and violence ahead*

Oh god.

Oh _good god_.

Every nation in the meeting room watched with wide, horrified eyes at a certain person who just limped into the room. She truly looked like she went to Hell and back, as her clothes were completely drenched in blood, which was dripping onto the floors under her, there were recent wounds (horrible wounds) on her person, and her eyes, oh god her eyes.

Her eyes looked like a dead person's, so lifeless and dull, but when they landed on Afghanistan, they immediately switched to pure rage. Her mouth was also hanging open slightly, allowing a few drops of blood to escape and run down her chin. All in all, she looked like the devil incarnate, about to bring Hell itself to Earth.

And that was exactly what she did with Afghanistan.

Very quickly, she was in front of the nation, staring at him. Afghanistan shivered in complete fear in his seat, unsure of where to run or who to ask for help. Then, just as fast, America's hand went to his throat, and she then lifted him off the ground without a problem, crushing his windpipe.

She brought him closer to her face. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't snap your bony little neck," she growled, tightening her grip. "One. Good. Reason."

Afghanistan, of course, couldn't speak. Any sound he could make was choked whimpers and shallow breaths. He clawed at America's hands, desperate for one gulp of air, but the woman didn't even budge.

"Do you realize what you've done?" she asked, still growling. "Can you tell me how many people in total were killed because of your petty group of devils?"

Afghanistan once more couldn't answer.

"2,996 people you bastard, all of them working men, women, and even children! Give me one reason why I shouldn't wipe your harmful existence off the face of the earth!" She started to squeeze harder now, getting closer to destroying Afghanistan's windpipe. Saliva was now running down the latter's chin, and he began to fall limp.

"America, please stop ve!" Italy, being the ever peace-seeking person, wrapped an arm around America's other arm, ignoring the blood as best he could. However, in her current mood, America wasn't going to listen to reason.

"Get off me!" she screamed, throwing Italy away from her, and he would've hit the wall with tremendous force had Germany not caught him and took the blow for him.

The other nations were paralyzed from seeing the ever so calm America in such a mood. Sure they had seen her in an enraged mood, but never to this extent. She was so enraged that she refused to listen to reason, being so overwhelmed with emotion that she couldn't think straight. How were they supposed to calm this America without inflicting harm upon themselves?

However, the next person to try and stop her was Mexico, whose strength rivaled America's and, despite Spain's pleas, ran over to her and pinned her down, forcing her to release Afghanistan.

"America, you need to stop!" he yelled over his sister's enraged and sorrowed screaming. The sound tore at his heart, but he refused to let go, knowing that if he did his sister would do something that she would regret later. "America, listen to me! Think of New York, think of Virginia, Pennsylvania! They need you right now! Think of your children!!"

That caused America to freeze, and even from where he was Mexico could see the conflict in her eyes. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates with horror and realization, and mixed feelings passed through her eyes. She clearly wanted to kill Afghanistan, but the thought that she abandoned her children was dominating her previous feelings.

Eventually, Mexico released her, then stood up when he realized that America wasn't going to pounce on Afghanistan again, even though he deserved it. Mexico of course never liked the man, as he truly acted like a spoiled brat trapped in a grown man's body, and the oldest North American nation felt terrible for his sister for having to deal with him.

America then stood up, not looking at anyone as she left the room silently, the only sound in the otherwise chaotic room being the click-clacks of her heels, which seemed to be filling with blood too, because America's feet were slipping out of them, and blood caked them.

After America was completely gone, Mexico turned to the other nations, knowing that his disgust was present on his face, because every single one of them, including Canada, flinched.

"Although I'm grateful that your people were so caring towards America's people, I can't say the same for you," the Mexican began. "Let me ask you a question; Have any of you personally try to check on Emily after that day?"

No one answered, and Mexico pressed his lips together.

"You disgust me," he flat-out told them. "I'll admit that I wasn't there to help her when those monsters attacked her people, but do you know how many days I stayed up, frantically calling America?"

Once more, no one answered.

"Two days. _Two days straight_ I called her, desperately trying to hear if she was alright! I called her 334 times, and not once did she answer." Mexico turned to his younger brother, who was avoiding his eyes. "Tell me Matthew, have you stayed up all night and tried to see if our sister was alright?"

Canada opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and Mexico's eyes narrowed with Canada's own avoided his.

"You never did, did you?" Mexico let out a bitter laugh. "Now I can see why Emily wants nothing to do with you; You wanted nothing to do with her, so she didn't want to be involved with you. I guess I made the right decision to never make much contact with you."

Mexico didn't feel in the least bit guilty when Canada flinched.

"Now, if you will excuse me." Mexico wasn't surprised that no one stopped him when he left the room to find his sister, having a good idea of where she might be.

~~~

Turns out she was at her family mansion, where all the states had gathered. When Mexico knocked, his daughter, New Mexico, answered. She looked troubled when she opened the door, failing miserably to compose herself, and when she realized it was her father, she finally broke down.

Mexico just held her as she quietly sobbed, not saying anything. There was nothing he could say that could change what had happened all those years ago, and it was something that would forever scar America, and it would haunt her and the states for the rest of their existence.

Once Elvira was calm enough to speak, Mexico asked, "Where's your mother?"

Elvira pointed to the living room, and followed after him when he entered.

America was indeed there, still dressed in her bloodstained clothes, while a just as wounded New York, Virginia, and Pennsylvania sat nearby, wincing and whimpering as their siblings tried to bandage their wounds. Looking around, Mexico realized some states, like Maine, Alaska, and even Hawaii, were nowhere to be seen, likely from what this day meant for them all.

Everyone looked up when Mexico came in, their eyes filled with terror, disgust, and sorrow at what had occurred years ago. Mexico stared back, saying and doing nothing. His brown eyes then met his sister's sky blue orbs, and Mexico could instantly see the fragile woman underneath that tough and emotionless exterior. The sight made his heart hurt all over again, and he went and sat down next to America, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and ignoring the blood.

So many people, including their own brother, forgot that deep down, America was just as fragile as they were.

And deep down, when that day happened, America truly wanted to kill Afghanistan, consequences be damned, and Mexico could also see that self-blame of being unable to protect her children.

Now, call him selfish, but Mexico was glad that his children weren't attacked, though he still felt for Netherlands and even Prussia, but not England. He knew that New York cared about his father, though he and his sister grew up without him in their lives, and Pennsylvania has some ounce of care for her own father, but England's children, although not outright hating him, don't view him as a good person, and now Mexico couldn't blame them.

England never personally checked on America during her time of need. Mexico also realized the man never came to her ever, whether it be from wars, from natural disasters, nothing! Instead, all he did (what the majority of the nations did, including Canada!) was sit back and watch America's struggles.

Mexico never felt more disgusted of anyone all his life.

Some family and friends those people were.


	85. Through My Eyes (Part 16)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

Everyone, whether it be nation or state, stayed as far away from America as they dared, because although she was out of her 9/11 faze, she was grinning like a madwoman, even giggling like one too, as she threw darts at a picture of Osama Bin Laden, hitting his eyes, nose, mouth, and forehead repeatedly.

Now, it was clearly that time when U.S. soldiers finally found the terrorist leader and killed him, soon dumping his body in the ocean. And now, it was that time when Americans began to celebrate, joyous that the man that ordered the attack on innocent civilians was finally dead and likely burning in the deepest level in Hell.

And America was feeling their emotions, and the fact that she was joyous herself was not helping matters.

So here the nations and states, watching their coworker or mother wearily, hoping they wouldn't be on the end points of those darts. Though the latter knew that their mother wouldn't do such a thing, as she was happy that the man who harmed her children was long gone, it was still unnerving.

Oh, and America was also muttering things under her breath, words that either were, "Go rot in Hell you son of a bitch." or "Finally, finally!" or something like that.

And more than one, America would send a victory shot towards Afghanistan, who would squeak in fear every time, even though the darts would miss every time. Though, from the way America was giggling, everyone knew she would miss on purpose, and now the nations were so scared they'd probably be shitting bricks afterwards or sometime soon.

Though, Virginia, New York, and Pennsylvania were watching with embarrassed looks on their faces, as this happened to be the period when their mother was more crazy than usual and she wasn't afraid of being openly cruel to terrorists. To be honest, the three states pitied the fools, but not enough to actually step in and help.

After all, they were getting what they deserved. It was just the fact that America was doing this in public that was making this entire thing an embarrassing topic for the three, because they knew they were not going to hear the end of it from some of their younger siblings or even from the nations.

So the only thing they could say was "Oh Mother/Muti/Mom".

And the fact that tomorrow was going to be the day that their mother returned to normal wasn't helping. Now the nations were not going to get the end of it, especially when a pissed Emily F. Jones was involved.

There was only one word the states had to describe their mother.

Terrifying.


	86. Through My Eyes (Part 17)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by Konataya on Wattpad*

The next morning finally came, and, low and behold, America was back to normal, dressed in her normal dark blue buttoned blouse and skirt and black high heels. She was also, as usual, the first to the meeting room, and, just as the nations predicted, she was not happy.

And that feeling was directed at not just England, but everyone in the room.

Upon receiving that look, everyone froze, unable to move and unsure of what to say to explain themselves.

"You have ten seconds to say something and explain, or I will drag you to the sea, tie you to a rock, and throw you into the ocean," America threatened.

The threat seemed to snap them out of their stupor, because immediately the nations took their seats and tried to explain themselves.

"Speak so I can understand you!" America snapped, clearly not in the mood to be patient right now.

"Vhat do jou vant us to say Amerika?" Germany asked, and had you been paying close attention to him, you'd have noticed the sweat running down his face.

"Did you see everything?" America asked lowly. "_Everything_?"

"N-Nein, not everyzhing," Germany admitted with a stutter. "Just some important eras."

""Important eras" you say?" America asked, before sighing in frustration. "Well, I have no reason to not believe you, but I'm afraid I can't let you off the hook, England."

Now the nations who were (hopefully) redeemed felt terrible for the British representative, who was now quivering in his seat, looking at anything but America.

"I-I have no idea what you mean," he stammered.

"If you do, then why are you shaking in your seat and pale to the face?" Before England could answer, America was by his seat, and she grabbed his ear, dragging him out the door. Although the male nation mouthed "Help me!" to the other nations, no one moved, even when the door closed between the pair.

Then, they heard,

"You good-for-nothing bastard!" America screamed from the other side of the door. "You just had to go ahead and be reckless did you?!"

"Ame--Ow! Bloody hell, I'm sorry!" England.

"You're sorry?! Oh I'll show you sorry!" The nations flinched when they heard England's pained screams from the other side, but even still they didn't move from where they were standing, knowing they would be asking to join England if they did so.

Though, note to self: **Never **piss off Emily F. Jones, the United States of America, and the mother of fifty-one children.

~~~

Nearby, in their respective homes, each and every one of said children shivered in fear and pity, and they knew their mother was doing something painful to England, and he was going to be traumatized for a long time now.

Though, none of the states felt terrible enough to actually give their condolences to the man, in fact they were pretty satisfied about it, Maine and even Washington D.C. most of all.

Speaking of Maine, the guy was chopping wood with a vigor of a demon, a malicious and a grin that stretched all the way to his ears. His eyes also glowed with a dark light that sent shivers through the spines of all his siblings.

And right now, he was giggling like a madman, satisfied to very fiber of his bones.

But still, it was good that their mother was back to normal. Well, as normal as she could ever be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I'm done with Through My Eyes, but still, I must thank Konataya for giving this idea to me, for it was very fun to write about. So, thank you very much for suggesting this! Hope you're having a good day today!


	87. When I Fade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Requested by HetalianSkywalker on Wattpad*

Prussia knew he was anything but a pure man. Oh no, he was anything but. He had killed, tortured, the list goes on and on. And there was never a day that he never regretted what he had done, but none more so than what he had foolishly done to his former trainee.

Whenever America looked at him, she would treat him with the utmost respect, but her tone was always so cold and distant, and it was always a struggle on Prussia's part to not flinch. He knew that he acted arrogant and condescending, but he took what he did to America too far. He had forgotten that she was still a child compared to him, and yet, she had seen too much for her age.

She had become a _mother _at such a young age.

And she was the mother of his _daughter_.

When he first met Pennsylvania, Prussia had been terrified. Of all the times he thought he knew America, he never knew that he fathered a child with her, and just...learning that he was a father of a beautiful physically teenage daughter caused his heart to stop.

And Juliette was everything he wasn't: she was patient, looked underneath the underneath, and loved her mother and siblings. She represented everything Prussia had failed, and that hurt.

But none more so than what was waiting to happen to him.

He was a dissolved nation, which means that, sooner or later, he would fade out of existence, just like the Ancients had before him. Sometimes Prussia found himself checking the seconds that had just passed, knowing that each one was counting down the last moments of his life, but what scared him the most was that he didn't know when it was going to happen. It could happen the next second, the next minute, the next hour, or perhaps longer.

All Prussia knew was that his time was running out, and he needed to do a couple of things before that time came.

So he started to look for America.

~~~

She stared at him, expression void of any emotion but her body tense, like she was waiting for him to pounce on her. Before, Prussia was aware that before they discovered her real identity and her children, she truly didn't care about them, but now that they knew, she was more tense than before, but Prussia understood.

Because now that the nations knew of her children, America feared that they would do something horrible to them, and Prussia knew they had done nothing positive to America for her to reconsider her thoughts on them.

But he wasn't here for that.

"Jou see, don't jou?" he asked.

America said nothing.

"Jou know zhat I'm fading, don't jou?"

America nodded. "It's not that hard to see," she replied. "But are you expecting me to do something about that?"

Prussia shook his head. "Nein, it's too late for me anyway."

"But there's something you want from me." It wasn't a question.

Prussia nodded. "Ja. I know zhat I'm not exactly close to Juliette, but I don't vant to leave zhis vorld vithout telling her somezhing."

America's eyes widened for a moment, and even though it was gone just as quickly, Prussia knew what he saw.

In fact, his eyes were starting to burn. "Amerika." He took a deep breath. "I just vanted to say...zhat I'm sorry for everyzhing. I'm sorry for not being zhere for jou vhen jou needed a friend. I'm sorry for forcing jou to go into hiding, and I'm sorry for being one of zhe sole causes of harm to jour children. I know it's too late, but I just vanted jou to hear zhat."

America was frowning now. Then she opened her mouth. "What are you really trying to say Prussia?"

"That you not tell Juliette of my passing."

Now her eyes widened again, this time staying for a long period of time. "Why?"

Prussia smiled sadly. "It's quite obvious; I vas never zhere vhile she grew up or vhen she vas born. She doesn't really need me now, and I doubt zhat she ever has. But still, I don't vant her to be upset vhen zhe time comes. 

America looked like she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come forth. She was still frowning, but Prussia thought he saw a hint of tears in her eyes.

"Zhat's all I came here to tell jou Amerika, but remember, I'm sorry for vhat I've done, and I von't blame jou if jou don't forgive me. I deserve it after all." He then nodded his head to her. "Danke for jour time."

He then left America standing there, and he didn't dare look back, because he knew if he did, he would beg America to actually tell Juliette of his incoming fate.

But he wouldn't do that.

He was cruel to a lot of people, but he refused to be cruel to his own daughter. She didn't need to know of this, even though it hurt.

But he also didn't stay long enough to hear America's next words.

"You goddamn fool." She stared at the door he just exited from with sadness. "Why didn't you say this to me a long time ago? And why did you have to tell me this? Juliette's the one who should hear those words, not me. So why?"

Of course, Prussia would never answer those questions, not that America was expecting them anyway.


	88. Wrath of a Mother

The temptation to punch herself was so strong right now.

Iowa knew it was a bad idea to go out at night to get groceries, but they were out of eggs for omelets and a few of her brothers had asked for them in the morning! Besides, it wasn't like she was going to go alone to the grocery store anyway; Wisconsin and their mother were accompanying them, so Iowa thought they would at least be safe with the latter around.

But who was she kidding? That wasn't going to stop danger from coming along!

Anyway, they had been on their way home (which happened to be one of America's mansions out in the woods), when they spotted some girls by a fire-pit, laughing and telling crude jokes to one another.

They were taking about "fucking another hot guy" and some other vulgar content. Wisconsin and Iowa started to shiver with disgust, but America paid no attention to the girls as they continued to walk home.

"Hey!" Aw, fuck.

The women turned around to face the girls, who were now looking at them like they were a piece of meat. Iowa heard her twin's beaver, Yuri, start to hiss, but it was so quiet you could barely hear it.

"Yes?" America acknowledged, her tone devoid of any emotion as she urged the girls behind her. The twins didn't fight her.

"You're the woman living in that house down the road, right?" The lead girl, who had disgusting fake bleached hair, fake tan skin, and clothing that showed off her butt and cleavage smirked with an arrogance that Iowa and Wisconsin wanted to wipe from her face.

Though, had their mother felt the same, she wasn't showing it right now. "I am."

The girl placed a finger on her chin, as if she were thinking of something else to say, before smiling even bigger at America. "Ah, so you're that whore who cares for 51 kids!"

Iowa was about to lash out at the bitch, but America's tight grip on her shoulder subdued her.

"And I believe my family life is not your concern little girl," the older woman stated. She then turned around. "Come on girls."

Thankful beyond all else, the twins moved to follow their mother, but Iowa felt her heart literally stop when she heard Wisconsin cry out. One of the girls had grabbed her and pulled her to her fake bosom, placing a knife too close to her throat. Yuri was forced out of her owner's arms, and she hissed in rage, but she couldn't do anything because she had been kicked to a tree.

"You bitch!" Iowa shrieked, moving towards her twin's captor, but she too was grabbed, and she felt something hard and painfully blunt whip across her face, sending her to the ground. Groaning, she froze when she felt the barrel of a gun press against her scalp.

"Ah ah ah," the leader tsked with that horrendous smirk of hers. "No need to get reckless now. We're just going to offer a proposal to you. Give us your house, and we'll let these two go without too much injury. After all, we think you can go without two of your many children."

Wisconsin cried out as the girl handling her attempted to rip her clothes off, and she was trying in vain to keep her clothes attached to her. Iowa tried to go to her twin, but the barrel of the gun hit her once more, knocking her out momentarily.

"What's this?" The various scars of Wisconsin's form clearly repulsed the girls, and they pushed Wisconsin to the next girl, who spit on her. Wisconsin whimpered, unable to keep herself from crying.

The leader went to her, smiling at her pain. "Oh are you going to cry ugly bitch? Well don't start, 'cause that's not going to fucking help you here!" She then moved to slap the state.

"U-Um, Kress?" another of the girls whimpered.

The leader, now called Kress, snapped around. "What?!"

The other girl pointed towards America, and Kress followed her finger only to freeze at the sight before her.

America was eyeing each and every one of them with the eyes of a cold-blooded murderer, and to top it all off, her sky blue eyes have turned into a glowing blood red. Her pupils were gone too, and her eyes were so wide it was a miracle they were still intact.

"Tell me," the older woman began slowly and darkly. "Do you believe in urban legends?"

Kress shakily took out her own gun and pointed it at America. "W-What's it to you?"

"A lot," America answered. "Let me tell you one thing. All legends are true, and you have just done something that has sealed your fate."

The girls shivered, and Iowa heard the gun above her head shake.

Then Kress started to laugh, but shakily. "A-Are you trying to scare us into letting these two go? Trust me bitch, that's not going to work."

"I'm not just trying to scare you," America replied, and now blood started to appear on her form. "I'm going to let them kill you."

"T-Them?"

America didn't answer, and instead she began to perform the most sinister dance anyone could ever witness. Iowa took that as her cue to roll away from the line of fire and headed over to her twin, who freed herself. Then, after Wisconsin took Yuri into her arms, they took off running, not looking back.

Those girls were dead, and they were going to die a horrible death.

As they made it to the mansion with their intact groceries at hand, they felt the earth shake and the eventual human-like screams of the monsters their mother has summoned.

~~~

All around America, the earth shook with the force of the creatures trying to break free. Then, giant claws burst out, some cracking as their bones snapped back into place, and finally the creatures broke free. But even as they did, America continued to dance like nothing was wrong, finally stopping when the monsters screeched those human-like screams.

It was them, the man-eaters of Native American legends. The Wendigo.

"_Get them,_" America ordered in one of the Native languages. The Wendigo didn't need to be told twice. With inhuman speed, they rushed towards the terrified girls, who began to scream in horror and pain depending on what happened to them.

America then watched with a grin as the girls were ripped apart and eaten alive, their screams echoing into the night. However, she was saving the leader for last, forcing her to watch her incoming fate, forcing her to keep her eyelids up and her face turned towards the scene.

Kress was screaming like a madwoman and she attempted to struggle, but America was stronger and kept her in place. To add more insult to injury, America had the Wendigo splatter her friends' blood onto Kress and even forced it into her mouth.

Then, all the girls were eaten dead or alive, and America pushed Kress towards them. Kress cried out, trying to get away, but America kept pushing her back. She turned to her.

"Why?!"

The murderous rage from before returned. "Why?" she repeated quietly. "Why you ask? Are you fucking stupid you little whore? This is simply a mother's wrath, and you have hurt my daughters. Now, it's time for you to pay the ultimate price."

"Please..." Kress whimpered. "Don't kill me."

"Tell that to them bitch." America then turned to the eager Wendigo. "_Kill her._"

The sounds of the Wendigo, the screaming Kress, and of ripping flesh would be heard throughout the night.

~~~

"What the hell?! What's happened?" It was Washington D.C. who said that, though Iowa and Wisconsin should've known that he would still be up. After all, being the capital of a country meant a lot of missed hours of sleep. But still, they were a little stumped.

D.C. looked over the mess that was Wisconsin before he turned to Iowa. "What's. Happened?" he demanded, his eyes flashing ice. Iowa felt shivers run down her spine.

But before she could open her mouth, their mother walked in, calm as before, though there was this anger to her that frightened even Iowa. And it got a little worse when they landed on Wisconsin.

"Daniel, Yolanthe, Ysabel, come with me," America ordered calmly as she headed upstairs. All three followed without a complaint, and America took Wisconsin to one of their many bathrooms, where she handed her a nightgown and closed the door behind her daughter. Then, she turned to her other two present children.

"I'm sorry Ysabel," she said, "that this had to happen."

"It vasn't jour fault Muti," Ysabel said quickly. She didn't want her mother to start blaming herself over this.

"What happened?!" D.C. demanded, losing whatever patience he had. America eyed him with that much needed patience.

"Come with me," she ordered gently. "And Ysabel, see to your sister."

Iowa nodded as she went into the bathroom to tend to her twin, while America led her son away to a secluded room to explain what happened, and let's just say D.C. wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight.

Either way, there was a reason why the wrath of a mother was the most terrifying thing anyone would experience, especially to the people who are the cause of that wrath.

Too bad those girls were already heading to Hell right now. Iowa knew her mother would've been more than happy to show them all over again what happens when you mess with a woman's child.

So, if they wished to live another day, they shouldn't have targeted America's daughters.


	89. Yearning

Jealousy hurt.

It was like a hand choking you, making sure you suffered until you couldn't even breathe. It was like a dull knife forcing its way through your heart, creating a wound that will never heal.

Worst of all, the personifications of England, France, Canada, and even Russia knew this jealousy was all from their creation, and there was even nothing they could do about it.

America would never love them, not like men, and they had pushed her away.

They were currently watching with sorrowful looks as Canada and America's older brother, Mexico, laid a gentle kiss on America's head (without her knowing of course), all while he watched the children he had with her do what they love best.

New Mexico danced to her hearts content, with Arizona as her partner, while Nevada gambled with his older half-sister Michigan, the latter who was in the process of losing big time.

Nearby, Netherlands watched his own children do their own things. New York and New Jersey were breakdancing together, clearly without a care in the world, and nearby Hawaii was trying to make a bouquet with cherry blossoms in the mix, only to pout when the petals would blow away. Japan just chuckled and continued to add more petals to the bouquet of Hawaiian flowers.

America was smiling at the children with her, loving and happy, so unlike the cold, indifferent, cruel, and hostile America when she was around the other main nations. It took them all a long time to see it, but they missed the old America, the America that never existed and lived each day to the fullest.

Now, they had happily pushed that America away, and all they have is the America who refuses to see them as anymore than coworkers.

However, for those who saw the previous America as a friend, Emily F. Jones decided that America would be for them, and no one else. She clearly wanted nothing to do with the others as persons, just as they wanted nothing to do with her in the past.

Now, they could only think: _What have I done?_

You don't understand what you have until it's gone. They were aware of that quote, and yet they did nothing about America, didn't understand how much she meant to them.

And now look where that's got them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bonus and final chapter of this book will be coming soon.


	90. *BONUS CHAPTER* Puerto Rico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind that I am not familiar with Puerto Rican Spanish or Spanish in general, so if I mess up with the translation, please let me know.

Ah, Old San Juan.

America was always attracted to colorful cities, or cities that spoke of majesty. It was why she spent so much time in her cities, ranging from the diverse people, to the restaurants, and to the buildings themselves. But color and history attracted her too.

And Old San Juan had exactly that.

Considering how warm it was today, America had ordered a delicious piragua from one of the nearest vendors, but made sure to order a second one in case her daughter wanted one. These desserts were one of her favorites, and America didn't want to leave her out.

She was here to visit her after all.

America continued walking through the streets of the city until she arrived to a certain manor that was sky blue in color, possessed many flowers in the front garden, and had the sea in the background.

Smiling, she walked towards the door and knocked on the door three times.

"Xiomara, ¿estás en casa? (Xiomara, are you home?)" she called.

She didn't get a response at first, though she did hear footsteps rushing towards the door, which was then opened shortly after. The figure that greeted her was a twelve-year-old girl with wavy mid-back length dark brown hair whose side bangs framed her heart-shaped face, tan skin, a slender yet slightly pudgy body, and sky blue eyes. She was wearing a white headband in her hair today, which matched her white dress and sandals.

The girl smiled big upon seeing her. "¡Mamá!" she greeted, wrapping her arms around her mother's waist. America chuckled, being careful with the piraguas so she wouldn't drop them on accident.

She then wrapped her arms around her daughter in turn, once more being careful with the cups. "¿Cómo está mi pequeña guerrera (How is my little warrior doing)?" she asked.

"¡Estoy bien mamá! ¿Que pasa contigo? ¿Por qué no me dijiste que estabas aquí hoy? No te esperaba hasta mañana (I'm well Mama! What about you? Why didn't you tell me you were here today? I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow)."

"Terminé mi trabajo temprano (I got my work done early)," said America. "Sin embargo, todos tus hermanos vendrán mañana (Your siblings will all be coming tomorrow though)."

Xiomara smiled big. "¡Muy bien!" She then spotted the piragua in her mother's hand. "Mamá, es que (Mom, is that)--"

"Sí," said America, handing her the cup. "Estaba en camino aquí, así que pensé que te conseguiría uno (I was on my way here, so I thought I would get you one)."

Xiomara gingerly took the cup from her mother, eyed it a moment, and grinned happily. "¡Gracias Mamá! ¡No tenías que hacerlo, pero gracias (Thank you Mom! You didn't have to, but thank you)!"

America just smiled as she allowed Xiomara to bring her into the house.

Born in 1898, Xiomara was the personification of Puerto Rico, and being that she had many buildings and streets influenced by the Spanish, and had been colonized by them, America knew that Xiomara was Spain's youngest child. She also shared the same womb with Hawaii, making the two twin half-sisters, though unlike Hawaii, who was quiet and shy when she had been born, Xiomara was a feisty little thing, determined to be independent and do things on her own, even when she couldn't.

America supposed that stemmed from her love for adventure, her country being full of music and art, and perhaps even her declaration of independence from Spain. She had to admit that it helped Xiomara a lot though, especially in regards to Cuba.

America remembered when the foolish man attempted to corrupt her daughter with lies about her mother and siblings (without really knowing that she was her daughter), but Xiomara, who took crap from no one, especially the nations who did not truly know her dear mama, did not hesitate to make her opinion of the man known, right after she kicked him where the sun don't shine and sent him flying into the next century.

Many of the energetic states, specifically her full-blooded siblings Texas and California, had been proud of her when they learned what happened, while the calmer ones, specifically Florida, only chuckled nervously at the possible repercussions that Cuba would send to their mother.

Thankfully there were none, and when she saw that, America had burst out laughing, unable to hold it back any longer, and thankfully she had been alone so she wouldn't probably encourage Xiomara's nature.

Though she should've expected it when she was born, her name did mean "famed warrior" after all.

It also fit her since she was a very beautiful girl too thanks to her various natural attractions.

Xiomara led America through her house, which possessed a colorful interior, a clean and beautiful kitchen with an island, a large living room, and an upstairs that contained several bedrooms, a couple bathrooms that had different-colored lighting, and even a dance studio. Xiomara was more than happy to keep this place clean every day, especially since it would give her something to do when she didn't have work from her government or was doing something she loved.

After all, if she wasn't doing something, Xiomara would get more than a little antsy.

Eventually, Xiomara stopped in the living room, where she turned to her mother. "¿Quieres que me cambie a mamá inglesa (Do you want me to switch to English Mom)?" she asked.

America shrugged with a smile. "Si quieres (If you want to)," she replied.

Xiomara nodded, taking a small bite of the piragua and chewing a little before swallowing. Once she swallowed, she looked back up. "Alright," she said, switching to English now. "So...how were the meetings with the...nations?"

She said the last part lowly, as if not wanting to speak any higher. America mutely sighed.

"Loud," she admitted, "and we did not get anything done as usual. I'm just surprised that none of our bosses have intervened or even tried to investigate yet."

Xiomara's lips pursed. "But they did not find out the truth, did they?"

"No," America said with a shake of her head. "And I intend to keep it that way."

Xiomara said nothing a moment. "I'm still amazed that that idiot Cuba has not done anything stupid yet," she remarked distastefully.

"I would be surprised if he didn't," America replied.

Xiomara paused midbite, and looked at her mother in shock. After a moment, she looked ready to bury her face into the remaining piragua. "I just had to open my mouth."

America chuckled. "But if it makes you feel better Xiomara, no, Cuba has not done anything that would give us away."

"...That's...good?" Xiomara slumped when she said this.

America mutely sighed, hating how her daughter had to constantly deal with someone like Cuba. "Just don't let him get to you dear," she said gently. "I know he's not a good man, and I doubt that's a secret to anyone, but I sincerely doubt that he will attempt to do something to you."

"Yeah, after the times he called you a "fatass" and even wanted you to "be gangbanged,"" Xiomara said bitterly, taking an aggressive bite of the piragua, only to flinch in pain when a brain freeze came on.

America felt her eyebrow twitch. "He taught you that language?" she asked.

Xiomara flinched again. "N-No," she denied. "Those were his words, not mine Mama. Seriously!"

"And I believe you," said America. "However, I do not like it when you use those words. I understand that you were being honest, but you have to remember that those are not nice words to use to anyone."

Xiomara nodded solemnly. "I understand Mama. I just...I just wish Cuba was as mature and nurturing as you."

America smiled sadly, and wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulder. "I know baby, but sadly, I don't know if that will ever happen."

Xiomara said nothing, and proceeded to finish the rest of the piragua without a word.

~~~

The next day came without any other incident, and one by one, the rest of Xiomara's siblings had arrived to Puerto Rico.

Normally, when their mother was not within the state, every one of America's children would have their own national meetings, which were similar to how her own meetings with the nations worked, except they were only traveling to different states for meetings instead of internationally and their meetings were more orderly and professional unlike her meetings most of the time.

Now that their mother was in Puerto Rico, the states would attend their usual meetings and paperwork before coming back to spend the rest of the day with America, going out to eat, the older ones having drinks, and visiting the many wonders Puerto Rico had to offer. America had a genuine smile on her face for the two days she was in Puerto Rico, as seeing her children together, having the time of their lives and without a care in the world, was always a beautiful sight to behold.

And now, when night fell, America knew her peace was not going to over in the long run.

Because tonight was a new moon, and that meant excitement for the family, especially when they visited a certain beach.

Glowing against the night, America thought the current mood her children were in matched it perfectly. Many of them were dancing along the beach, sometimes stepping into the water, laughing and singing. Even the calmer of her children would sing and dance with the others, having the time of their lives, almost like they would never get to do this again.

That knowledge broke America's heart, but she hid it easily.

Eventually, while many of her children continued to sing and dance, America heard Xiomara approaching her.

"Mama?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

America smiled and nodded. "I'm fine dear," she said. "It's just so peaceful here. I can understand why anyone would love to be a part of this."

Xiomara said nothing a moment, using that moment to sit next to her mother on the beach, watching her siblings and the night pass on by. Her hair blew slightly from the light wind, creating a halo of chocolate hair.

"I sometimes wish it's just us in the world Mama," Xiomara then said softly. "That way, you don't have to deal with the nations."

"The world is big honey," said America. "You know this. It's why your uncle Mexico exists, how you and your siblings came into existence."

Xiomara slumped, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I know Mama, it's just--"

"I know." America lay a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I understand Xiomara, and so do your siblings. There may come a day when we can finally be left to our own devices, but right now we have to work for it. You know that."

"I do know that Mama," said Xiomara, "I just wish it would come along sooner."

"Just be patient," said America. "Patience does award those who wait after all."

"I know Mama. I know."

America smiled. "That's my girl. Now, why don't you go join your siblings. We all have to leave tomorrow you know."

Xiomara nodded, grabbing her mother's hand. "You should join us too Mama." she said. "It won't be nearly as fun if you're left now."

"Xiomara--"

"Please Mama, it's not going to hurt you." Xiomara's eyes took on a pleading tone, and America wanted to curse whoever invented those eyes.

She mentally slumped. "Of course dear," she said.

With a big smile, Xiomara dragged her mother into the little party they had, and America found herself having a lot of fun dancing and singing with her children. Suddenly she wondered when she would get to do this again.

Then she shook her head. It was better to not think about it.


End file.
